#I suppose her new one is very close but it is a bit smoother……………….. sigh.

[fisherrprince]

wait does merlwyb’s voice actor change too. im inconsolable,

[eyelessfog]

mirror mirror on the wall, you're nothing like me at all

There's a lot of things to be done when you're False Symmetry, sort-of mayor to Cogsmeade, and the single most confused person on the server.

Honestly, False would like to think that she's exaggerating about the last bit, but... no, she probably isn't. Even as she gains her memories back, there's still so many blanks that leave her reeling because she reacted weirdly to some stupid little thing - and then she doesn't even know why she felt that way because of it.

There's one thing she gets, though.

Why she hates mirrors with a passion.

False - the other one - she tried. Tried to be sneaky and hidden and invisible. But False knows there's two of her now. And she loathes the idea.

False holds the knife in her hand and twirls it between her fingers.

The idea of changing what she looked like before the rift closed was scary. She didn't like that people mistook her for the other False, but she's dealt with a lot of things she didn't like because they were useful.

But now that the rift is closed, and the other False is gone... The usefulness of looking like the other False has gone.

So False pulls her hair up into a ponytail at the base of her neck and cuts the knife straight through it all.

---

The first person to notice - which is to say, the first person she interacts with afterwards - is Sausage. He swoops in with a scream to alert his presence, and then there's a thump at her door.

"I'm okay!" Sausage reassures through the door. "The door is also okay! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Okay Sausage," False calls through the door, heaving a heavy sigh. "Come on in, tell me what you need." She'd been working on getting Jack back up to his farm post, because he'd come down sometime the night prior to annoy her, and now he was built of logs and... scarecrow buffness. Which is kinda hard to move.

The front door slams open, and False flinches.

"Hi False! I just need a lot of iron, so I came by to trade! I got some hard wood here for you, but I'd love if I could cash in on that favour too? Oh wow that's a big guy- who's- Huh."

When Sausage cuts off, False turns around to stare at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing much, you just... New haircut. You look like Ramona Flowers."

False makes a face. "Who's Ramona Flowers?"

Sausage blinks. Narrows his eyes as he stares at the floor. "Uh. I'm not sure, actually. But you look like her!"

"Well, alright. Do you want me to get that iron for you?"

"Well, yes," Sausage begins. "But your hair is all, like..." He makes a motion with his hands and a noise with his mouth and False does not know what that's supposed to mean.

"Does it look bad?" False asks, raising a hand to touch at her hair.

"No!" Sausage gasps. "No, no, it just... I can very clearly see that you cut it with a knife."

"Oh. Huh. That obvious?"

"Yeah, kind of. Do you mind if I trim it?" Sausage asks.

"I mean.. If you want to? It might be nice to know it doesn't look terrible." False twirls a finger around one of the two locks of hair she left a little longer than the rest.

Sausage claps his hands excitedly. "Alright!! Do you have scissors? Let's do it now!"

"Now? Sausage-!"

---

Well, False has to admit, Sausage did a pretty good job on the haircut, and it really does look a lot nicer than it did before. A lot smoother. More even on both sides. She still isn't too sure how to deal with having short hair, but it doesn't get in her face anymore, and when it does, she only has to tie the two locks of hair instead of pulling it all up into a bun.

When False looks into the mirror, she looks a little less like the other False. A little more like herself.

But not enough. False turns the mirror around so that she can't look at herself again.

---

The next thing she tries is piercings. The other False had a nose piercing, but that was it. False thinks she wants a lot of piercings on her ears but none on her face.

The obvious option is to go to the person that False knows has a lot of piercings: Katherine.

Katherine looks surprised to see her, then happy, then confused.

"You have a new haircut," Katherine notes. "It looks nice!"

False tucks her hair behind her ear. "Thanks. Sausage helped."

"Right. Um. Did you need anything, or..?"

"Your piercings," False says. Katherine brings a hand up to touch at her nose ring. "Where did you get them?"

"Uh, well. Here, I guess. In Glimmer grove? Almost every kid gets their ears pierced, so we have a place." Katherine blinks, then jolts. "Hey, wait, why?"

False pulls on her earlobe. "I was thinking of getting my ears pierced. A couple times, actually."

Katherine jumps. "Yes! Yes, yes! Do you want to get them pierced here? We have a couple different types of earrings to choose from and everything."

"Oh," False says, surprised by her excitement. "Yeah. Can we go now?"

"Yes!" Katherine sings. "Let's go!"

---

False leaves the earring place with two black earrings and a promise to book her in for another session in a month, just to let the whole thing heal up good before she gets another set.

She turns the mirror around to take a good look at herself, and tilts her head.

Short blond hair, black earrings with a cuff and chain that the other False would never wear, and the same blue eyes and the same long face and the same tired eyes and everything else all too similar.

False looks at herself in the mirror, and then frowns at the cuff and chain.

The other False would never wear this. But False doesn't think she likes it too much either.

She takes the earrings out and replaces them with different ones, and then she turns the mirror around.

---

A couple months later has False with two rings on her helix on one ear and a second stud on her other lobe..

She likes it like this. She thinks she looks good like this (and Katherine agrees), and she looks a little less like the other False. She likes that.

But she doesn't look enough like she's herself. Like she's her own person. Like she and that other False are different people.

She turns the mirror around and stares at herself for long enough to recognize that she likes what she's changed, and then turns suddenly nauseous and slams the mirror back around.

---

Another couple months comes with a new haircut (thank you Sausage,) and a new fun thing False wants to try.

So she flies alll the way through her tunnel until she's technically in Chromia, and then flies up to the tavern, and finds Scott there, arguing with the bartender.

The llama bartender.

The animal.

False clears her throat, and Scott turns, lets out a deep sigh, and then schools his face into a smile. "Hi, False, welcome!"

"Uh," False says, glancing between him and his llama. "Hello."

"Sorry for what you walked in on. Can we get you a drink?" he asks.

"I... sure? Maybe? I mostly just wanted to talk to you."

The customer service act drops. "Oh? About what?"

"Um, the tattoo." False points at her breast, and Scott looks down at his own. "Your tattoo. Where did you get it?"

Scott, for some inexplicable reason, peeks under the collar of his shirt, as if to double check that his tattoo is still there. Which it is. It's always visible over his collar.

"Here," Scott says. "Like, in this tavern. Some hot guy was waving around a tattoo gun if he got some ink for it, so I got him ink, and he gave me a tattoo."

"Oh," False says sadly. "Do you know where he is?"

"He comes by once a month. I can tell him to stick around a little longer than usual when he stops here next, n' then call you over." Scott pauses. "Because you want a tattoo, right? That's the point?"

"Yeah," False agrees. "Um, thanks, Scott."

"You're welcome!" Scott says. He turns back to the llama, and their conversation is over.

As False leaves, she hears the beginning of Scott ranting. "Owen, listen, you can't keep doing this. It's not hygen-" And then she closes the door and decides that Chromia is a very, very strange place.

---

In a week, False has a little clock on her arm, and then a month after that, it's part of a series of gears and levers and steel beams. It isn't a full arm sleeve, but it's a lot and it's nice. False likes it.

Taking care of the tattoo is interesting in the way that it helps her remember time and recognize if a new day has started. It's a grounding routine, and False loves it.

---

When False takes the bandage off for good, she turns the mirror around and inspects it from there.

It looks really nice, just like she knew it would.

Tattoos were something that the other False hated with a passion. The idea of subjecting herself to an extended amount of time with needles shoving ink into her skin? On purpose? She hated that. False remembers it from a late night game of twenty questions they played, back before they hated each other.

The tattoo looks nice with the piercings and the hair, and False thinks that this time, she won't turn the mirror back around.

She stands there for a minute, examining herself, and decides that she doesn't look like the other False.

And then she notices that she doesn't quite look like herself either.

She turns the mirror around and leaves.

---

She comes back the next day. Turns the mirror back around. Thinks about it.

She likes how she looks. She likes the things she's changed. Those bits look just as much like her as her face and calloused hands and skinned knees and broad shoulders do.

But when she looks over herself, she doesn't see her. She doesn't see the other False, but she doesn't recognize who she sees in the mirror either.

"It doesn't make sense," False says, watching her own mouth copy the words in her reflection.

When False leaves the room, she leaves the mirror facing out.

---

She comes back the next day. She stares at herself in the mirror until she feels awful, and then she leaves. And then she does it again the next day and the next, until it's a ritual to remind herself of the passage of time, just like cleaning her healing tattoo. The reason behind it becomes muddled behind her noticing the differences between what she looks like from one day to the next.

And then one day, she realizes with a jolt that that's her in the mirror. And that she recognizes herself as her in the mirror.

"Oh," she says, and marvels the lack of a disconnect between the way her own lips move and her reflections' move. "Oh. I'm me."

Short blond hair with an undercut, green tinted goggles on a leather strap, three piercings on one ear and two on the other, big, tired, blue eyes, a white dress shirt with the first few buttons left open and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her metal and fabric wings strapped onto her back with a harness, the clock and gear tattoo up her right forearm, the fingerless gloves and chipped blue nail polish, the blue handkerchief tucked into her belt - it's her. It's all her.

"Oh," False says again, suddenly appreciative. "Hello."

This time, when False leaves the room, the mirror is properly hung on the wall. And there it stays.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story pt 21 - Sci Fi

New part is here! Hoping this makes up a bit for the heartbreak of the last part!

I have no idea how long this spurt of energy and and inspiration will last, but I'll keep writing until it runs out!

Master Post linked here

Enjoy!

____________________________

“Did you hear me?” Chris’s voice was filled with patience and warmth. “I’ll save you. I’ll be your Connector.”

I looked at him silently, knowing that I should feel relieved.

Whether my alternate memories were caused by the mental degradation, or if I was truly some sort of traveler tasked with saving this world, his offer solved all my problems. Forming a match with him would stabilize my mental condition, allowing me to fully understand what was real and what was not. It would help me become not only a true Guardian, but a powerful one that could help take on the Hive and save the world, completing my mission.

I should have felt relieved. I should have felt grateful for his generous offer.

But instead, I felt sick and wanted to run away.

“Thank you for offering this, but you have a dream, Chris. You want to be a Guardian more than anyone else.” I found myself arguing passionately, hoping he would withdraw his offer. “I can’t let you sacrifice all the work you’ve done, the trust others have placed in you. Besides, you already have a Connection with Princess Ilene...”

“Alaira.” He frowned as I finally managed to free my hand from his grasp and leaned back to put some distance between us. “None of that is as important as your wellbeing. Ilene understands that.”

“Maybe you don't have to sacrifice all that though. Maybe there’s another match out there for me…” I was grasping at straws, not even sure why I was arguing. But I knew it, felt it deep in my soul.

I didn’t want to match with Chris.

“There’s no one else. I am your only chance to be a Guardian.” The warmth was gone, his face and tone were serious. “Either you match with me, or they’ll put you on indefinite leave, and you’ll never be a Guardian again. “

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 2%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

“I don’t want to force you.” He reached out to smooth my hair, becoming visibly frustrated as I pulled back further, refusing to let him touch me. “I’m just trying to save you.”

“…”

“Trust me.”

____________________________

“Trust me.”

The man in front of me threw up his hands as he paced back and forth. “Everything will go a lot smoother if you STOP CHANGING THE STORY!”

“I thought that was why we were here, though?” I sighed, leaning back in my chair, adjusting the ballgown out of the way and cleaning my nails with a blade. “To fix the lower realms, to save these worlds? That requires change, right?”

He paused in his movements, glaring at me. “Stop acting stupid! These worlds are broken because they didn’t follow the rules. We know the rules. We have to follow them perfectly.”

“I don’t want to though.” I shuddered. “No offense, but if the rules are going to require us to have a romantic relationship, I’m finding a different way. There's always an alternate solution.”

“That’s what the story requires, you have your role to play. I am the hero of this world, the prince, and you are the damsel in distress. I was supposed to save you. You were supposed to fall in love with ME. Why did you have to stab the witch yourself?!"

I flipped the knife in my hand. "She was asking for it."

"You can't keep doing this. You know the consequences of not playing the right part.”

“No, there’s always different paths to take." I sighed, "You’re a good friend, and I’m glad to have you by my side, but that’s different than love.”

“…”

“You clearly don’t love me either, so why are you making such a fuss about this? As long as we complete what we came here to do, that’s all that matters, right?”

“…”

“Right?”

He stepped closer to me, his atmosphere slightly threatening. “Why are you so different from what you are supposed to be?”

“What are you…?”

“Why can’t you just ACCEPT...”

His hand grabbed my wrist, the grip painful. I raised the knife in my hand, but hesitated to stab him.

“YOUR.”

He pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart. His bright blue eyes were blazing with anger as they stared into my own. Each word burning itself into my soul.

“FATE.”

Letting me go, he walked away, putting some distance between us, before turning back to face me.

“This lower realm is stabilized. We should return.” His smile was cold. “The next mission is a little different from our previous ones. We’ll talk about it later.”

“…”

“And next time…?” He laughed, a bitter sound. “You’ll play your part whether you want to or not.”

____________________________

The memory was slow to fade, my heart still beating quickly with residual anxiety and anger. My hand tried to grasp the knife from the vision, but it closed on empty air instead.

“Alaira. Why aren’t you answering?”

I will not accept my fate.

I didn’t even know what fate I was rejecting, but I knew deep down in my soul that I had to fight.

I blinked a few times, focusing on Chris’s expectant face.

“I really appreciate you being willing to put aside your dreams to help me, but... Can you give me tonight to think about it? I’m just… I’m still really overwhelmed with all the changes that have happened.”

“��” He studied me closely before nodding with a polite smile. “Of course, Alaira. Like I said, I don’t want to force you. This will be the start of a beautiful partnership.”

Reaching out, he caught my hand again before I could pull away. He squeezed it tightly, almost painfully, before letting go and stepping back.

“The hero and the heroine… together… as it should be.” His mumbled words reached my ears and I felt sick and panicked once more.

No.

“Have a good rest, Alaira.” He closed the door behind him, and I heard the lock click into place.

I was trapped. I wanted to panic, to get up and pound at the door. To try to escape. Instead, my head started throbbing once more, and exhausted, my body pulled me back to sleep again.

____________________________

I woke up to three young women sitting next to my bed, staring at me.

I let out a startled shriek, scrambling to sit up and back away until my back hit the headboard of the bed. Looking around, I was still in Chris’s dorm room, but it now seemed much smaller and crowded with the trio who seemed intent on watching my every move.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” I waved a hand weakly, feeling scared by their intensity.

“… We wanted to see how you were feeling.” Princess Ilene was staring at me, her face unreadable.

This feels very uncomfortable.

“Why?”

The girls looked at each other at my question, before turning back to focus on me once again.

“We know what Chris offered to you.” A young lanky woman, who I recognized as my classmate Allie spoke up. Wasn’t she the one who sent me all the threatening messages in class?

“He’s willing to give up everything to save you.” Wen, the engineer who had confronted me early on, spoke solemnly, her face grim.

Ilene snorted bitterly. “Even if it means breaking up our partnership.”

“… Are you here to beat me up?” I don't think I can fight in my current condition. “Because if that’s the case, let me go ahead and say that I haven’t agreed to his proposal.” And I don’t want to. “ If you want to talk him out of it, that’s fine with me…”

“Are you stupid?” Ilene interrupted, rolling her eyes. “You should be grateful that someone as wonderful and caring as Chris is willing to sacrifice his dreams to save you. And you want to waste that?”

Allie chimed in. “Yeah. We may not agree with him becoming your Connector, but we all care about him, and if you’re that important to him… then we need to respect that.”

Glancing around the room, I shuddered at the intensity of the atmosphere. “You all care about him… romantically?”

“Yes.”

“Yep.”

“Of course!”

The girls answered in unison.

“And he cares about you all the same way?”

“…” There was an awkward silence, before the petite engineer spoke up.

“We are important to him, obviously. But now isn’t the right time for him to get involved in romance. He’s pursuing his dream of being a Guardian. One day things will settle down, and we’ll know which one of us is in his heart.” She smiled at me. “I’m sure you understand. You’re the same way, after all.”

“I’m the what now?”

“You’re in love with Chris.”

Umm, No.

“Sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding.” I rubbed my forehead as I tried to explain. To be fair, ALAIRA had been in love with Chris. But me? Not so much.

“I… respect him. “ It wasn’t completely a lie. I did respect his ability to completely ignore reality and charge forward without any doubt his actions were right. “But I’m not in love with the guy.”

Allie patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. You can admit your feelings here. We all love Chris. Even if he’s too busy becoming the strongest Guardian ever to return our affections.”

Have I… accidentally been admitted in the male lead’s harem? I sighed, wishing I could bang my head against a wall. Someone SAVE ME!

“We just wanted you to know that we will support you and Chris becoming partners.” Wen smiled, standing up, preparing to leave.

“You really don’t have to…”

Allie stood up as well. “I’m just glad you’ve come around and want to work WITH Christ instead of trying to embarrass him…”

“I really don’t…”

“And you better appreciate what Chris is willing to give up for you.” Ilene still looked angry. “He’s too good for you.”

“I don’t want…”

“We’ll be cheering for you at your next match with Chris” Wen pulled Ilene to her feet. “Don’t let him down.”

I was getting REALLY sick and tired of not being allowed to finish a sentence. “I AM not going to be his partner!!!”

WARNING! MISSION FAILURE IMMINENT!

TOTAL COMPLETION 1%

MISSION FAILURE WILL RESULT IN WORLD COLLAPSE AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SOUL. PLEASE COMPLETE THE MISSION.

The girls ignored my words, leaving with smiles and waves. Frustrated, confused, I slammed my fists against the bed, screaming. The bright blue words warning me of my upcoming demise slowly faded from the world, as if they were never there.

SCREW THIS! End of the world… destruction of the soul… I DON’T CARE! I am not going to be forced into matching with Chris. He gives me the creeps. I’d rather have my mind splinter than let him into it.

Feeling a strange mix of recklessness and calm, I sat up in the bed, taking a deep breath and staring at the clock in the wall.

Just a few more hours, and everybody should be asleep. And then…

I leaned over, picking up a small hairpin that dropped on the floor from Ilene’s head when she stood up.

I make my escape.

____________________________

Time passed slowly. I felt as if each hour was taking a century to pass, sitting in Chris’s room, not knowing if he would come back. Not sure if the blue words would pop up again, announcing that I had failed my mission, that my soul would be destroyed. I was having trouble focusing, my thoughts tangling together inside my head, difficult to separate out. I took slow, deep breaths, trying to sort out what I knew.

I don’t want to match with Chris.

I knew that for a fact.

I don’t have a better plan to save my mental state, or complete my mission.

Also fact.

I might die.

The facts were really depressing, actually. Just looking at it like this, it still seemed as if my best option would be to agree to Chris’s proposal.

____________________________

"We know the rules. We have to follow them perfectly.”

____________________________

The man's words from my memory echoed in my head, but I ignored them.

Like the me in those memories said... There's always an alternate solution.

I won’t match Chris.

It wasn’t rational or smart. But I couldn’t give in.

So, if I don’t have a better plan, why bother to escape?

I leaned back against the headboard of the bed, trying to come up with a single goal after leaving this place. It didn’t take long, as a familiar face came to mind.

Liam. I want to find Liam.

It didn’t make sense. It wouldn’t help my mission, as he couldn’t form a connection. We didn’t even know each other that well, only spent a few hours in each other’s company. But deep down inside me, the only thing I wanted to do was see him again. He was the only person I trusted.

Chris said he returned home, though.

Hopefully he was lying. And if he wasn’t… well, then I would just have to search for him then.

The clock chimed. It was midnight, and almost everyone should be asleep. Getting to my feet, I took a moment to steady myself, ignoring the searing headache and lightheadedness that had gotten worse the more awake I was.

It must be the mental degradation. Who knows how much time I have left?

I moved quietly towards the door, studying the lock. Alaira had been a good student, spending all her time studying military tactics and Mech technology. She had no idea how to pick a lock.

____________________________

I was an assassin, crouching in front of a door, easily forcing it open within a few seconds.

“Amateurs.” I whispered to myself with a grin. “Thinking you could keep me out.”

____________________________

The memory faded, but my hands were already moving, inserting the hairpin I had found into the lock and rearranging the tumblers inside. As I felt the last one slide into place, there was a loud clicking noise, and the door swung open.

“I’m not Alaira.” I whispered. “These memories aren’t hallucinations.”

Which was probably not a good thing, given that I was about to fail my mission, and have my soul destroyed. But I was still happy.

I am not Alaira.

I crept down the main hallway of the men’s dormitory, having to hide a few times to dodge security guards. The throbbing of my shoulder served as a steady reminder to keep close track of my surroundings.

“Report.”

Just as I was entering a entrance hallway to the dormitory, someone called out. At the sound of the voice, I ducked under a table, hiding myself in the shadows, glad I was wearing my dark uniform still.

“Everything has been quiet, sir.” A security guard stepped into my vision, looking nervous.

“You’re certain?” The voice was quiet, but was still easily recognizable as the one I wanted to hear the least right now:

Chris? What’s he doing up at this hour.

“Yes, sir. There’s been no movement around the dorms tonight.”

“Good.” Chris stepped into view, his polite façade gone, in its place a grim, ruthless man. “As I’ve said before, Guardian Alaira is deep into mental degradation, and is a danger to herself and others. I've kept her here solely for the purpose of her safety, but she can’t understand that in her current state, and may try to escape.”

“Are you sure…?” The guard seemed nervous.

“Do YOU want to be responsible for General Gladus’ only child being harmed?”

He straightened up, shaking his head back and forth vigorously. “No! No of course not!”

“Then do what you are told. And remember, Prince William…”

Liam? I leaned in, interested.

“…whereabouts are unknown, so keep an eye out.” He sighed. “He was supposed to go home after receiving that written summons. But he hung around instead, and has been trying to see her.”

“Why can’t they…?”

“He’s the reason she has refused to match. As a Connector without the ability to make the connection, he hopes to keep her like him, not caring that her mind is almost completely broken. “ Chris held out his hands helplessly. “Even if he’s a prince, we can’t let him do this. Not to General Gladus’ family, right?”

Liam didn’t go home?! He’s nearby! I felt excited, almost not hearing the next part of the conversation. The sound of my name dragged back my attention.

“Alaira and I will be forming the Connection tomorrow. So we just have to keep an eye out until then.”

“She has agreed?”

“She will.” He smiled, the expression terrifying in the shadows. “She has to.” He moved off to the side, his boots only a few feet from my face, picking up something from the table above me.

“Or she’ll fail the mission, and her soul will be destroyed.”

He whispered the last sentence, but it struck me like a bolt of lightning.

HOW DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THE MISSION?! ABOUT THE WARNING? I clapped my hands to my mouth, preventing a sound from leaking out as my frenzied brain tried to make sense of this new information. Is he a traveler too?

Does he know who I really am?

“Well, congratulations on a successful match, then.” The guard responded cheerfully, unaware of the grim threat lurking behind Chris’ words.

The two separated, leaving me frozen, still hiding underneath the table.

Who is Chris, who am I? I clutched at my head, the throbbing pain worsening. I don’t have time to figure this out!

I started moving forward, ignoring my growing panic and confusion. Ignoring the agony of my mind falling apart.

I was going to find Liam.

I crept along the side of the room, making it to the front door of the dormitory.

What if there are guards on the other side?

I pushed away the panicked thought, and mentally prepared to fight my way out.

I’ve already gotten this far. I won’t give up now!

With that, I took a deep breath, and pushed open the door, rushing out, ready to start swinging.

I ran straight into a firm chest.

Fight!

I cocked a fist, swinging it towards the man’s face, when I head a single word.

“Alaira?”

I froze, looking up into familiar dark blue eyes. “Liam? What are you doing here?”

“Trying to rescue you! What are you doing here?”

“Escaping.”

“Awesome!” He grabbed my hand, pulling me along. “Let’s escape together!”

We ran away.

____________________________

Quickly moving through the different winding hallways, I lost track of where we were going. The doors flew past us, the soft glow of the emergency lighting a blue blur. All I could see was Liam’s back in front of me.

And I feel a whole lot safer than I ever did sitting in that quiet dorm room.

Finally, Liam pulled me into a classroom, dragging over a chair for me to sit on. Once I sat down, he brought a desk over, opening up a backpack and setting a thermos and a container down next to me.

Opening the container and thermos, I shook my head “How on earth did you manage to bring along hot tea and sandwiches to a rescue attempt?”

“I was worried that you might not have been eating properly.” He muttered.

A brief flash of a smiling man peeling an apple by a campfire filled my mind. “Support spouse?” The muttered words came unbidden to my lips, and I rubbed my temples.

Liam blushed, “What did you call me?”

“Nothing, sorry. My mind is having trouble keeping things straight right now.”

“The mental degradation?” He reached out, his hand pausing in the air before dropping back by his side. “How are you doing?”

I took a sip from the thermos, realizing from the empty feeling in my stomach that I hadn’t eaten anything in the whole time I had been trapped in Chris’s dorm room. “Honestly… I don’t know. Things are getting jumbled… I’m having trouble figuring out what’s real and what isn’t.”

“It’s already that far along?” Liam’s face was full of concern. “And there’s still no high enough match for you to make a connection and reverse the process?”

Chris’s offer crossed my mind, but I shook my head. “No.”

“…Alaira.” He spoke my name quietly. “ What about Chris? “

“…”

“I don’t know what’s going on. All I know is that you disappeared from the infirmary last night, and all of a sudden I received a communication telling me to return home immediately. When I tried to track you down to check on you first, I couldn’t find you. Finally I narrowed it down to the Chris’s dormitory, but he had the place locked down like a fortress.”

Liam sat down next to me, staring down at his hands. “I heard that he has a high enough resonance match with you to make the connection, but he’s always refused in the past.” He glanced up at me. “But that’s not the case anymore, is it?”

“…I don’t want him in my head.”

“Even if it means your mind degrading further?”

I thought over the mission warning. “Even if my soul were going to be destroyed. I won't match him. It would be worse than death.”

“…okay.”

Shocked, I stared over at him. His face was serious, his eyes concerned as his gaze met mine. “Really? That simple?”

“I won’t force you to let that person into your mind. If it’s against your will, my attempt to save you could destroy you.” He broke the eye contact. “I just wish more than anything that I could make the Connection.” His voice cracked on the last word. “I’m useless.”

____________________________

“I’m useless.” The man in front of me, usually confident and smiling, was broken, his hands clutching tightly onto my own.

“Don’t say that.” I was breaking down, barely able to lift my head to look at him.

“It’s true. Something has changed... the world has changed. This place is rejecting you. My blood doesn’t work anymore. You’re going to be forced to leave, to go back to… “ He held his face in his hands. “And I can’t stop it.”

“Hey, lean closer.” I whispered, a small grin on my face despite the pain that wracked my body.

He leaned in, his dark blue eyes curious.

I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him in closer, and kissed him.

____________________________

I blinked, the memory still gripping me tightly, and realized that something was very wrong:

I was still kissing someone.

I was kissing Liam.

My hand gripped the front of his uniform tightly, the fabric wrinkled in my grasp. My other rested on his shoulder, feeling his trembling beneath my hand. His own hands braced against the chair and desk, keeping him from falling down where I had already obviously pulled him out of his seat. Our lips pressed together tightly, a comfortable warm feeling.

Did… I just jump Liam while in the grip of a memory?

…Also, I should probably stop, right?

I slowly released him, embarrassed as he sat back in his chair with a loud thump, his eyes wide with surprise and his face red.

“I … I’m sorry, I was confused…I didn’t mean…” I stuttered, wondering how to explain.

“I felt that.”

“I’ve been getting flashes of memories, and I’m not sure what they mean, or what’s real…”

“Alaira.”

“I shouldn’t have grabbed you, and… done that. I’m sorr…”

“ALAIRA.” Liam’s uncharacteristically loud voice startled me into silence. I stared at him warily, unsure if he was mad or not.

His hand grabbed my own, shocking me. “I felt that.”

“I don’t…”

“I felt it… without the barrier.” Liam was still blushing, but his eyes were filled with an excited light instead of the defeated expression that had been there before.

“You did?”

“Yeah… um…” He swallowed uncomfortably, glancing at me before looking away. “Can we do that again?”

“…”

Seeing my strange expression, he waved his hands frantically. “Not to take advantage of you or anything! I mean I can try to match you if my barrier is down, and that’s the only way…”

I raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying you don’t want to kiss me? You just want to see if we’re a high enough resonance match to form a connection?”

He hesitated, and then covered his face. “No. I want to kiss you again too.”

“Good.” I moved closer this time and leaned in with a smile. “Me too.”

We kissed again.

This time, beyond the warmth of the physical connection, I felt an electric pulse between us, a surge of power that was foreign to myself, but all too familiar at the same time.

We must be higher than a 50% match! Enough to stop the mental degradation!

Before I could break away to tell Liam, I felt his hand gently slide around the back of my head, his fingers tangling into my hair. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. The power exchange between us grew exponentially, the tangling of Alpha and delta waves binding our souls together.

He’s making the Connection. I responded fully, throwing all my power into it. Immediately my headache lessened, the vague sense of uncertainty that had been haunting me faded away.

After what seemed like an eternity, we broke apart, catching our breath. My heartbeat was frantic in my ears as I stared at Liam. I could feel him still, inside my self, tangled with my mind and spirit, a constant presence within me.

This is more than a simple Connection.

Liam nodded, looking overwhelmed. “I’m not sure exactly what happened… I think we might be a really high resonance match.”

“Why…” I paused, trying to sort out my thoughts. “Why does it feel like we’ve always had this connection… we’re just getting it back now?”

“Maybe we did in another life. ” he grinned, his face still red. “I felt tied to you the moment I met you.”

I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder. “Same.”

There was a comfortable silence, as we sat in the dark classroom, the tea in the thermos in front of us long gone cold. Finally I spoke up, refusing to move from my position of leaning on him.

“What now?”

He thought it over. “I guess we tell everyone we formed the Connection, and that you don’t need to be suspended anymore.”

“And after that?”

“Not sure.”

There is still the mission, I guess. “How about we save the world?”

His arm tightened around me. “If it will make you happy, anything.”

We waited out the night, together.

[captain039]

We can take care of each other PART 3

Hank x reader x Connor

Warnings: ABO, poly relationship, swearing, police things, Intimate, sexual, harassment, Daddy Hank, anxiety, angst

Previous chapter <-

PART 3

You awoke to Hanks phone ringing and him cursing it as he answered.

“What?” He grumbled as you heard a distant voice. You hadn’t moved from your spot on Connor. You yawned and rolled onto your back stretching.

“Did you sleep well detective?” He asked and you nodded dazed.

“Can’t Reed handle it the pricks there” Hank snapped.

“Yeah, whatever” he hung up and laid back down.

“Assholes” he muttered and you chuckled softly. He laid down with a soft thud from the mattress. You still cuddled into Connor he must’ve put his heaters on or something because you were toasty warm.

“Did you put your heaters on?” You asked.

“Is it too warm?” Connor asked and you shook your head.

“No, just making me not wanna move” you chuckled.

“Fine by me” Hank sighed as you heard Sumo bark.

“There isn’t enough room buddy” Hank said and you heard Sumo whine.

“Aw, Sumo” you sat up slowly crossing your legs and pet the bed lightly. He jumped up, in your face licking and making weird noises. You laughed trying to control the big beast as he finally laid down.

“What time is it?” You asked frowning.

“It’s currently 2:33 pm” Connor said.

“Geez” you said realising you had napped for a while.

“You were rather exhausted detective” Connor said and you flushed. You glanced to Hank who smirked almost proud and you glared slightly huffing. Hank was relaxed for once, a small smile on his lips, eyes closed as he leant against the head rest, his breathing even and his scent inviting. You leant back to lean against his side and he chuckled softly.

“My phone on your table?” You asked and he grunted handing it to you.

“Thanks” you said opening it. You had a few messages and emails but ignored them for now as you scrolled through social media. Connor sat up also, stiff in his movements and not relaxing back, you guess he didn’t need to relax back his body wouldn’t hurt. Hanks arm draped around your middle while Connor stared.

“What are you doing?” Hank asked.

“In a sense I’m making a memory” Connor said.

“I can record certain things and save them” he added.

“You show this to anyone-“ you elbowed him gently.

“Thank you detective” Connor smiled and you smirked.

“Great” Hank sighed.

“Two against the old grumpy alpha” he grumbled and you laughed. Connor cracked a grin, laughing wasn’t his strongest suit yet.

The day went on with you staying in Hanks bed. You had relaxed and calmed down after what had happened this morning, you were content in the soft blanket and leaning against Hank. Connor made you some food which was nice before sitting down again. It was going smoothly till your job demanded attention.

You all headed to the crime scene three stabbings in a club. Upon entering the room you gulped it was a private room on the sex side of the club. One android, two humans. The android was in the corner looking beat up and ruined by a bat or something, then stabbed, the two humans were on the other wall with stab wounds on their chest area. You got their identity’s, the android was called Kyla the humans were Mason and Fay. Kyla was designed as a sex robot and stayed that way voluntarily. The other two were also workers here Fay a beta and Mason an omega.

“What you got Connor?” Hank called as Connor stood by the door analysing.

“It was the android that went first, hit with the bat then stabbed on that wall, the other two tried to stop it, signs of struggle, possible fight before being stabbed themselves” Connor said as he walked to the android and looked over it.

“I can probe it’s memory to see what happened” he said.

“Go ahead” Hank said leaving the room to brief. You looked over the body’s again, there was a fight, something had gone very wrong or the killer just got his victims in one room perfectly.

“The android wasn’t supposed to be here” Connor spoke.

“How come?” You asked as he stood.

“The android came in to check on the suspicious noise before being dragged in and beaten to death” you sighed nodding, poor thing.

“Any traces where our killer went or who they are?” You asked.

“There are traces of DNA under the victims nails, matching a Gen Collins” you nodded.

“Send me her information” you said grabbing a spare tablet. You looked through her profile, 30, alpha female, she was tall and built like she was in military. You glanced through her past, she was in military, got kicked out for violent tendencies. She’s been prescribed by a doctor for anger management medication and therapy though she never took.

“We got one anger issued alpha on the run “ you sighed to Hank.

“Yep” he grumbled.

“We got any leads?” He asked as Connor came over.

“Not yet” Connor said and you and Hank nodded.

“Right come on” Hank said to you and Connor and you both followed.

Back at the station you all went through files hoping to find her whereabouts, she was no doubt dangerous and pissed about something.

You were at your desk for hours, it was nighttime when you decided to look outside. You stopped your task and leant back stretching. Your back popped slightly and you sighed hunching back over before sitting up. Connor came over to you and you gave him your attention.

“Are you alright detective?” He asked a slight frown on his face.

“I’m alright” you smiled.

“I need food and a shower though” you said yawning.

“I’ll drive you home” Hank said from his desk.

“You got anything?” You asked talking about the case.

“A whole lot of fuck all” he grumbled shutting down the screen and stretching.

“I need a drink” he grumbled making you chuckle.

“Home it is” you said shutting off your screen also and standing.

Hank dropped you off like he said, Connor following you in your house again while Hank drove off.

“He’ll be ok, won’t be?” You asked hanging your coat up.

“I do believe the Lieutenant has cut down on drinking, so, yes he will” Connor assured and you nodded. You shook your head laughing slightly as you took out a quick microwave meal.

You sat and ate happy to get some food in your stomach even if it tasted horrible. Connor sat and watched TV, well at least you think he was.

“I’m gonna have a shower” you called placing your rubbish in the bin.

“Ok” was all Connor said and you nodded.

You washed and dried before getting dressed into your PJ’s, Connor was still on the couch. You stood by him but he hadn’t taken notice.

“Connor?” You asked, he blinked and looked to you.

“Sorry detective” he said.

“It’s alright” you chuckled.

“You ok?” You asked.

“Yes, just going through some files is all, I apologise” you shook your head and sat by him.

“Don’t apologise” you smiled.

“Find anything?” You asked curiously.

“It wasn’t for the case” he admitted and you frowned curious.

“What was it for?” You asked head tilting.

“If you wanna tell me” you added. If you didn’t know any better you’d say the blue in his cheeks represented a blush.

“I am required to fulfill my roll in taking care of you and Hank both emotionally and physically” you flushed a little as he spoke.

“You don’t have to take care of us, we take care of each other” you said.

“It’s not all on you, I’m just not good with this” you sighed.

“It’s new to me and though Hank was-“ you flushed remembering what happened earlier.

“Eager, we’re gonna have some issues” you mumbled.

“What issues?” Connor asked frowning slightly.

“Well me, I overthink overthinking, Hank Is insecure even if he doesn’t admit it, I’m trying to please both you and Hank, Hanks the only one with experience!” you rambled a bit realising you hadn’t thought this through.

“And Hanks distant” you sighed sagging into the couch.

“Maybe it was a bad idea” you said sadly.

“Y/n” Connor said and you looked to him, he rarely said your name.

“This wasn’t a bad idea, this will take time to get used to and figure our mission out together” you smiled at him.

“Though I don’t understand many things I am willing to learn” he added.

“And try” he said another blue tint to his cheeks.

“May I kiss you detective?” He asked and you smiled as your heart pounded. You nodded and he leant forward, you closed your eyes as he pressed his synthetic lips to yours. It felt like real ones only smoother, you hummed softly leaning up body eager again. He pulled back eyes in a daze as you smiled slightly.

“I have to return to cyber life for some adjustments soon” he said and you frowned.

“Are you ok?” You asked worried.

“I’m ok, they’re going to add features to my body and system” you frowned.

“I’ll be better equipped like a male alpha” you flushed at his words and leant back into the seat avoiding his eyes.

“Oh” you stuttered out.

“When- when is this?” You asked.

“Tomorrow” you nodded embarrassed.

“How long will you be gone?” You asked.

“Only for the night” you nodded again.

“Ok” you said softly.

You frowned as your phone buzzed. You answered and frowned when you heard a familiar voice.

“Jimmy?” You questioned and he sighed confirming. Connor frowned also leaning in.

“Can you come get Hank please” you glanced to Connor at his words.

“Mans messed up again” your heart sank.

“Im on my way” you hung up.

You quickly got dressed sort of and drove to Jimmy’s. Connor followed you as you walked in spotting Hank in the corner slumped over.

“What happened?” You asked Jimmy.

“He got drunk started babbling on about you and Connor before breaking down and passing out” you processed and sighed.

“Thanks” you muttered going to him.

“Hank” you said as you slid into the booth next to him.

“Hank” you dragged out. He gurgled out a sound and you raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps I should support him to the car” Connor said.

“Yep” you agreed getting out of the seat.

“Hank” Connor said and Hank grumbled. He helped the man up who groaned and grumbled eyes opening and closing. He finally focused on you, your arms were on your hips.

“Why’re you glaring at me?” He said like a child.

“We’re going home” you rolled your eyes handing Jimmy some money as a tip.

“I’m sorry” you said and he shrugged.

As you drove Hank home the man grumbled the whole way there. You unlocked your door before taking him to the bathroom.

“Hank” you said as Connor sat him down on the toilet. The alpha looked around taking in his surroundings before taking you and Connor in.

“Fuck” Hank toppled over and you jumped back a bit.

You looked away as he threw up in the toilet. You held down your stomach and sighed going to get him a drink while Connor watched him.

The toilet flushed and you went back in with a glass of water.

“Thanks” he mumbled sipping it. He leant back against the cold tiles as did you as you sat down staring at him.

“Stop staring” Hank sighed.

“Hank we’re concerned” Connor said.

“Well be unconcerned” he slurred.

“Hank” you sighed sadly.

“What?” He scoffed slightly.

“You’re not my mum” he chuckled at his joke.

“No I’m your partner” you said.

“That’s unfortunate for you” he smirked.

“Hank” Connor said almost in warning.

“Shut up tin can” Hank huffed.

“Look at you both sad faced over me, it’s depressing shit man” he sighed.

“You know you’re probably better off leaving me here and going off with Connor” although he was drunk his words hurt.

“Hank-“ you said startled.

“I mean the fuck you want me for? Disgusting old, alpha, pervert with a pretty omega and perfect robocop over here” you bit back tears.

“I can’t give you a family, can’t give you what you need” you felt a tear roll don your face as he continued.

“I don’t want a family I just want you two” you said taking a deep breath.

“Maybe you’re fucked in the head too” you flinched at his words and clenched your jaw, he was just drunk.

“The fucked amigos!” He cheered and you glared at the floor.

“Hank you’ve upset the detective and me” Connor said.

“Yeah? And?” You stood and quickly left at his words.

You curled up in your bed tears rolling down your face. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want the three of you to be together, your alpha didn’t want you or Connor. You hugged your pillow tightly before a light knock came.

“Detective” it was Connor who called.

You didn’t answer so he let himself in.

“I’ve let the Lieutenant rest on your pull out couch, he’s unconscious I’m afraid” you sniffled and nodded.

“He’s just drunk” he muttered.

“Is he?” You turned to face him. Connor couldn’t answer.

“He doesn’t want me or you! Or us! Maybe I am fucked in the head, we’re all fucked in the head” you cried.

“I’m stupid for ever dreaming” you laid down again, back to Connor as you cried. Your mind was going wild you couldn’t handle the rejection he had just said. You tried to reason but there wasn’t anything to reason with.

The bed shifted but you didn’t move as Connor laid behind you. He slipped his arm under your head and another around your waist. You clutched your pillow tightly and cried softly.

Your tears dried and stuck to your face, your eyes were droopy as you tried to stay awake.

“Sleep” you heard Connor mutter as he pulled the blanket over you both. Your eyes closed and you sighed letting darkness take over.

Next chapter ->

[nerdypanda3126]

Playing with Fire – Ch. 8

So two things: first, I did write a little interlude between last chapter and this one, and you can find it here.

And second, in the part with Luka's journal, he's in a dark place at that point in his life and there's some suicidal ideation in there. If you'd prefer to skip over it, you can jump over the italicized parts, and as far as I know that's the only time it'll pop up in this story 💖

Read on Ao3 

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“You want to find my family?” Luka asked incredulously as he held a branch aside for her to walk past. 

He was tired, and so was she; they’d been walking all night, but Luka had insisted they needed to put as much distance as they could between them and the tower while they still had the cover of darkness. By the time the sunlight was able to filter down to them through the canopy, she suspected it was closer to mid-afternoon and they’d been up for a full twenty-four hours. He’d been stuck in his mostly-human form for the longest he’d ever had to endure it. Maybe not an ideal time to bring up her plan, but…  

“We’re already running for our lives, we don’t have a home to go back to, at least not for a while, so… While we’re out wandering anyways, I thought…” 

“We’d lead an angry mob straight to my mother and sister?” 

She rolled her eyes at him. Definitely not the best time to bring up her plan. “You’re cranky when you’re tired,” she noted, letting her own irritation slip into her tone. He grunted back, but it was more of a challenge than an assent. 

“Besides,” she pushed on, ignoring the way he bristled, “it might take a while to find them. How long do you think the townspeople will follow us, anyways? My guess is they get to the tower, see it’s empty, and turn around and go home.” 

“I’m not worried about them,” he grumbled. “There’s a certain friend of yours who didn’t seem ready to give up anytime soon.” 

If he had venom, he’d injected it into the word “friend.” She winced at his bitter tone. 

“Okay, so what’s your plan? We wander the wilds aimlessly chasing our tails for the rest of our lives?” 

He faltered and glanced over at her. The way he seemed so unsure made her realize he’d never had a plan. At least not past “stay alive and wait.” This was all new to him; he didn’t know what he was doing or where he was going. They’d traveled in as much of a straight line as was possible away from the tower, but other than that… he was lost. 

She drew closer to him and threaded her arm through his as an apology. He laid a hand over hers as he took her meaning and sighed. 

“Where would we even start?” he asked, his voice small in the quiet of the forest around them. 

“There have to be other towns nearby, and I’m sure someone would remember seeing dragons flying around 18 years ago.” 

“More townspeople…” he grumbled again. “Great.” 

She squeezed his arm in sympathy and they walked in silence for a while. She could feel the weight of the plan starting to fall on his shoulders, the idea of asking around, relying on humans, how long it might take. In truth, she hadn’t realized the enormity of the undertaking until she’d proposed it to him and now she could agree that it sounded impossible. 

“Maybe they’ve been waiting for you, too,” she dared to say. 

He let out a quiet laugh. “Ma wouldn’t, her treasure is the open skies and she wouldn’t wait for anyone.” He paused to think, then sighed. “Juleka might, though.” 

“Your sister?” 

“Mhmm. We were close when we were young. Before…” His eyes slid over to her and he let it drop. “She might’ve followed Ma at first, but I’m sure she wasn’t happy with the decision to leave me behind.” 

“What’s she look like?” Marinette asked, her curiosity overtaking her. He’d never talked about it before, but for once he seemed open to the topic. He smiled wistfully as he tried to remember. 

“A lot like me, I guess. Except, you know…not...” He gestured to himself, to his human form. “Unless she made the same mistake, but I doubt Ma would’ve let that happen again. And she’s taller than me, or at least she was when we were little. Maybe it’s changed a bit, but she was always kind of a lanky thing. Ma’s pride and joy, though, if I’m honest. It’s her fire. Most dragons have some variant of red; it’s rare enough to get blue fire, but Jules…” He shook his head, that wistful smile growing as he remembered. “Jules had violet fire. Unheard of, really. You’ll see when you meet her, she’s—” He caught himself then as he realized what he’d said. “If, I guess,” he amended quietly. 

She squeezed his arm again and smiled over at him. “When,” she agreed. “When I meet her.” 

He half-shrugged, but his smile warmed when he looked over at her. Before she could stop it, she yawned loudly and he laughed as one took him over, too. 

“First things first,” he said when it subsided, looking around at their surroundings. “We need to find a place to camp.” 

***

Later that evening they found a cave. 

Marinette had laughed a little at the prospect. Dragons, caves, towers, curses. Her life was sounding more and more like a fairytale turned inside out. Wasn’t there supposed to be a shining knight that rescued the damsel in distress from the terrible, fire-breathing dragon? 

But she didn’t feel very “in distress” as Luka joined hands with her to remove his stone and sighed with relief when his transformation took hold. She didn’t feel very in distress as he blew a small ring of fire into the floor of the cave, patting it down as he went to create a smooth, warm, bowl-shaped indent for them to curl up in together. And the only distress she felt as she tucked herself into his coils was her racing heart and trembling hands as the kiss they'd shared came back to her. He blinked up at her, sensing her hesitation, and uncurled a bit as if he intended to stand. 

She shook her head and laid her hand on his back, reassuring him, then took a moment to run her fingers over his scales, admiring them in their full splendor. Even though they were pitch black, they caught the bare light of the cave and glinted back at her like he was wearing a solid coat of jewels. They turned softer towards his belly, finer, more like the scales of a snake that she was used to as opposed to the armor he wore on top. 

As she continued to touch him, he let out that noise again, a small satisfied hum, and laid his head over his claws as he closed his eyes. 

His wings fascinated her. There was a solid joint of muscle on each side where they met his shoulders, as thick as both her fists put together, but the wings themselves seemed so fragile—she could see her hand through the delicate skin stretched thin between the bones. And yet they were able to hold not only his weight but hers, too. 

She felt it when she hit that sensitive spot that had made him ticklish before. Something like a chuckle rumbled through him and his wing flinched away from her reflexively, but he didn’t pull it out of her hands. That spot was along the side of the bone she’d been tracing, the longer one that nestled into his side when they were furled. She did it again out of curiosity and a shiver ran through him. 

She tried to remember what she’d read about dragon anatomy. But instead she was imagining how it must feel to him. Maybe something like if she were tracing the ridge of his shoulder blade when he was human. 

When she looked back at him, his eyes were still closed, like he was pretending to be asleep. She knew better, though; his breathing was uneven. As much as he was trying to hide it, he was hyper focused on her every move. 

She let her hand trail down his arm until she found one of his huge, rough hands. She picked it up despite his small grumble as his head shifted, and marveled at the largeness of it. The pad of what would be his palm was as big as her face, and the curved ebony claws reminded her so much of the hawks she’d seen in her life that she knew they were deadly. But his were each as long as her entire hand. 

As she set his hand back down, he opened an eye to look at her. She watched the slit of his pupil as it dilated to capture as much light as it could in the gloom of the cave. And the fiery blue that surrounded it was the same as the tuft of hair along his neck and at the tip of his tail. 

She should be frightened. Luka in this form was danger personified. Everything about him should have made her adrenaline spike. Should have made her want to run away or try to fight for her life. 

But as he blinked at her again, probably trying to understand what she was thinking, all she saw was… Luka. The same soul who had promised her mother he would take care of her, who had offered his life to her, who had saved her when she was too small to even know to be afraid. 

No wonder she’d still had dreams of sleeping curled up next to him. When she looked at him, at all of him, all she saw was safety and home. And as he tucked his wing around her like a blanket, she couldn’t imagine a safer place than right next to him. 

***

She grumbled awake when the light hit her eyes the next morning. She’d have to talk to him about getting curtains or something to cover that damn opening while they slept. She curled away from it, trying to press her face into Luka’s scales, but her nose was hitting something warm, and breathing, and...smoother than she expected. 

Her eyes flew open as she realized her lips had touched skin. 

It was later than normal and they’d already switched. Luka was human beside her. His arm was draped around her waist, she was curled up against his chest, and she had just nuzzled into his neck and brushed her lips against the hollow of his throat. She froze, but he was still solidly out, snoring lightly every so often, his arm a heavy weight around her. 

The night before rushed back to her. Fleeing the tower, their long walk, the cave they’d settled into for the night… and Luka. His dark hair was falling over his eyes, and those dark circles had returned after only one night of missed sleep. His lips were parted slightly as he breathed and he looked so peaceful she almost wanted to reach out and touch him if only to make sure he was real.

But she didn’t want to wake him. So as carefully as she could she extracted herself from his embrace and stood to stretch, realizing that all their walking from the past few days had caught up to her. Before she did anything else, she retrieved his stone from where he’d left it and slipped it around his neck so her flames didn’t attract any attention. Or worse, set anything in their temporary shelter aflame. 

They’d need to find food and water, but exploring their new area would have to wait until Luka woke up. For now she settled on taking inventory of what they’d brought with them, munching on a piece of bread from her parents’ bakery as she did. She froze when his lyre fell out, making an awful twang against the cave floor, but Luka only muttered in his sleep and rolled over. 

When she continued searching through the bags, her fingers caught on the leather of his journal. Another glance at Luka proved that he wouldn’t be awake for a while yet; losing sleep as they traveled had hit him harder than her. She walked as close to the entrance of their cave as she dared and sat in the light to read. 

The first few pages were mostly unintelligible. Scribbles and squiggles as Luka struggled with the quill and ink. Then came pages of the alphabet, unsteady at first, and traced over what must’ve been Jagged’s handwriting. The letters got stronger, more confident, and then on the next page, his first written word. Just his name, but she could almost see the pride he must’ve felt in accomplishing that one word. It stood alone on the page. She imagined a young Luka running out to show Jagged his hard work, beaming with the joy of learning a new skill. 

Then other words started to fill the pages. Jagged Stone, fire, bond, wings, rabbit, trap, tower. Naming things around him, sometimes with little drawings that accompanied the word. 

But then she saw the word “bakery.” Her breath caught. That wasn’t a word that Luka would be familiar with unless… 

Underneath that was a sentence. “My bonded lives in a bakery.” 

And as the pages went, she found more little tidbits about her life interspersed between Luka’s practicing. “My bonded has blue eyes.” “My bonded has black hair.” “My bonded likes the color pink.” “My bonded likes flowers.” 

It seemed he’d tried to learn as much about her as he could, but either Jagged never told him her name or Luka never asked because every one of them started with ��my bonded.” She wondered if he did it on purpose. It seemed like something he would do. Waiting not only to meet her but to hear her name. 

He’d filled the next page, and it looked like a letter. Addressed to her. She glanced back at him, but he was turned away from her and she couldn’t see his face. She remembered how he’d stiffened when she asked if she could read it before he’d brushed it off as nothing. But he did say she could read it… 

So she did. 

***

To My Bonded,

You probably won’t ever get the chance to read this. I’m not sure why I’m even writing it other than I guess if the worst happens maybe there will be a small piece left of me that I can hope you would come to know.

From what I know of you, I think you might be someone who would listen.

Firstly, I don’t blame you if you’re angry with me. It probably hasn’t been easy on your end and I don’t know how much you’ve been told about our situation. Which is the worse curse, I wonder, knowing everything and waiting to see how it unfolds or knowing nothing and having to make a decision. Either way, I guess it’s really my fault anyways.

As for the second thing. I don’t know that I’ll have the chance to show you so I want you to know. I do care for you. Deeply. Sometimes that scares me because I don’t even know your name. The only thing I remember is seeing your eyes that day I rescued you. When they opened, when I knew you were okay, I was so relieved that I hardly even noticed your eyes were blue until Jagged reminded me years later. But they are, aren’t they? I wonder if they were like that before, or if maybe that’s another part of me that stayed with you.

I’m both dreading and hoping for the day I get to see those eyes again. Maybe when that day comes I can explain myself and apologize and tell you all this in person. Until then.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I didn’t think I’d write to you again. But Jagged told me today you had a ‘crush’ on someone in your village. A taylers boy, although I don’t know what that means. He told me about the fire too. He didn’t really have to. I felt it. I felt how your heart hurt and I wanted to go to you. Maybe I should have. I was afraid. 

Jagged said you were fine, that you would be fine. But next time I feel that, I’m coming to you. Scared or not.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I am sick of this place. I’m sick of this tower and sick of the waiting and sick of feeling like I’ll be stuck like this forever. I thought you’d come for me. Aren’t you curious about me? Don’t you know by now what’s happening, why I’m still here, that I’m waiting for you? Or maybe you’re staying away because you know. Maybe you want it to be this way, maybe this is your choice.

I don’t mean that. If you knew I’m sure you’d be here already. I guess I wish I knew how much longer it’s going to be like this. How much longer I’ll be waiting for you.

Yours, Luka

---

Dear Bonded,

I keep writing to you for some strange reason. It’s a sort of comfort, knowing that you’ll probably kill me before you get to read any of this. I’m sure that’s your answer now because your village has started sending men to kill me instead. They come up from your village anyway.

It’s okay. I get it. You’re probably scared of me. The rest of them have been so I can only assume you think the same. I haven’t let them win yet. For now there’s still a small part of me that hopes you don’t know anything about this. That it has nothing to do with you. For now anyways.

Yours, Luka

---

Bonded,

I hate the taste of blood.

Yours, Luka

---

Dearest Bonded,

This is my last letter to you. I can’t keep doing this. The men keep coming. I’ve tried everything to get them to leave me alone, but nothing seems to work. And I’m tired. I know you’re probably not coming. You won’t come. Even if you did, you’d be here to kill me. And I had every intention of giving you that choice, but I’ve made my decision. The next time those men come I’m not fighting anymore.

If you do find this. If you do come for me. I’m sorry. I’ve loved you with every breath.

Yours, Luka 

---

Dearest Bonded,

I’m a coward. Or a fool in love. Either way, I’m still here. I have to have faith in you.

Yours, Luka

***

She jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. Luka laughed as he sat down behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist to press his chest against her back and lay his head on top of hers.

“Dramatic, wasn’t I?” he asked, still chuckling. As much as she could she swatted at his hand with the journal. 

“You scared me! You shouldn’t come up behind someone like that!” 

“We’re the only ones here, who else did you think it was?” 

Damn him, she could hear his satisfied smirk in his voice. She swatted him again for good measure, even as he pressed a kiss to her hair, but his last two letters were still sharp in her mind. 

“Why’d you stop writing?” she asked, flipping through the many blank pages that were left. She felt him shrug behind her. 

“I didn’t see much point to it, really. Either you’d come and we’d live happily ever after and I could tell you everything myself or… not. And it wasn’t like I ever expected you to want to read it if things went badly.” 

“How long after this…” she started, but she lost her voice halfway through. She had to swallow hard past the lump that was forming to find it again. “How much longer did you have to wait for me?”

He was quiet for a moment and he rubbed his hands up and down her arms, probably trying to soften the blow. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he said softly. 

“It does to me. Luka, if I’d known any of this—why didn’t you let Jagged tell me?” 

He let out another of those soft laughs behind her and his breath ghosted across her neck. “He wanted to. We fought about it a lot. But I figured that would only make you feel… obligated.” 

She thought about that while she stared at his last entry. Of course it was impossible to think what she might’ve done, or how she might’ve felt because she only knew what had happened. The series of events that led her to him. The nightmares and the flames and thinking she was a curse to her family and her village. And up at the tower Luka was dealing with his own nightmare. He’d almost given up hope and when she did come to the tower she’d almost proved him right. 

His arms tightened around her as if he could sense where her thoughts had gone. As if to prove he was okay and it turned out alright. She pressed back against him and could feel his heartbeat thudding steadily through her own chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe it didn’t matter. They were together now. That’s what she’d told him. To stop blaming himself for what happened. She didn't blame him for anything and at the very least he'd already forgiven her, too. 

She turned in his arms and slid her hand behind his neck to pull his face down to hers. As she pressed her lips to his, it felt like a promise. A promise that he’d never have to be apart from her like that again, bond or not. 

He melted against her and for a moment they were both lost in each other, in the knowledge that in this moment they were safe and together and that was all that mattered. 

[reinvent-and-believe]

another taste of heavenly rush

So this was supposed to be a silly little breathplay PWP drabble as a birthday tribute to the lovely @witchertrashbag but then it kind of...evolved??? Mutated??? lol who knows what happened, I sure as hell don’t. Anyway happy late birthday Wine Aunt, you’re a credit to this fandom, I hope you enjoy this belated smutty mess 🖤

Jaskier is utterly bewitched by the sight of a huge, leather-clad hand on the man’s throat.

He should be paying attention to the words being exchanged, seeing as he started the quarrel that led to the aforementioned hand-on-throat situation. Well. Hadn’t started it, per se, but he had certainly escalated it, and gods know Geralt won’t appreciate that particular nuance.

But the red-faced man currently gasping for breath beneath the witcher’s considerable grip had simultaneously insulted Jaskier’s songwriting and Geralt’s honor in one ill-begotten, unoriginal sentence after Jaskier’s performance in the tavern common room, something about “don’t clap for that little prick’s filth, praising freaks and monsters.” The bard had simply smiled sweetly, taken a sip of his ale, and intimated that the man’s wife was something of an expert on the subject of little pricks.

And then the man tried to hit him with a chair, and Jaskier can hardly be blamed for that, although Geralt will, inevitably. He’d scurried away from the onslaught and called out an only vaguely panicked “Geralt!” which led them here, the ugly sour-breathed man pinned to the tavern wall, his feet twitching desperately for solid ground, held up by one huge, bulky hand.

This little misadventure won’t make it into one of his songs. There’s nothing poetic about a prejudiced drunk man being rude and getting choked for his efforts.

Although...Jaskier’s eyes are drawn again to the sharp contrast of the brown leather of the gauntlets against the greasy pink of the man’s skin. Maybe there is something poetic to choking, after all. Choking, choking out, feeling the life drain from your body by a huge, leather-clad hand. Choking as in choking something else, draining something else from...jerking off, choking as in jerking off, and it’s not his best work but he’s fairly distracted at the moment because the thought of a huge, leather clad hand gripping a swollen, leaking cock has burrowed its way into Jaskier’s mind and fuck, how is he supposed to think about anything else now? Slick red head squeezed a little too hard, beading pearlescent drops disappearing into a supple russet fist that’s a little too coarse, too cold, too dry but feels divine nonetheless…

“Jaskier!”

Fuck.

The innkeep is shouting at them to get out, holding a broom as menacingly as one can hold a broom, and Geralt is glowering at him. “Go, bard! Roach!”

Right. He grabs his lute and flies out the door, the cool night air a shock on his overheated skin. He sprints to the stables and sets to work quickly tacking up the mare as he coos at her soothingly. “Deepest apologies, my dear lady, but it seems our plans for the evening have been altered somewhat.”

He’s leading her out and back toward the tavern when the door flies open, Geralt charging out. He fixes Jaskier with an exasperated glare and snatches the reins from him. “Dammit, Jaskier,” he mutters, swinging into the saddle. “If your cock doesn’t get us both killed, your mouth will.”

And if Jaskier’s arousal had flagged in the process of fleeing and fetching their escape horse, all it takes is a reference to cocks and mouths in close proximity to bring it roaring back to life as Geralt drags him up behind him and spurs Roach into a gallop out of the village.

It’s new, this thing with Geralt.

He’d met the witcher just over two years ago, back in Posada. They’d travelled together and parted near half a dozen times since, but this current sprint is by far their longest together, going on four months. They’ve fallen into a routine, found ways of traveling that make both their paths smoother. Jaskier’s songs are more lucrative when he can theatrically proclaim that their hero, his muse, the town’s savior is in their very midst; Geralt’s presence protects him from beasts and monsters and bandits and keeps him fed on fresh game between towns when they make their camps beneath the stars. And though Geralt’s never mentioned it, he can tell he’s come to appreciate Jaskier’s contributions, too: he sets up camp and builds a fire while Geralt hunts when they stay in the country, procures rooms with less humiliation and rarer downright refusals from rude innkeeps and for significantly less coin when they stay in the village. Noticing Jaskier’s penchant for picking wildflowers on the roadside, Geralt’s even started teaching him the herbs, flowers and berries he needs for his potions.

Traveling together does have its drawbacks, of course, particularly Geralt’s reticence to stay within the confines of civilization. He’s perfectly content to go weeks without sleeping in an inn if the town doesn’t have any contracts available, wont to ride away from perfectly good villages where Jaskier would be able to find perfectly good lovers.

This came to a head a few weeks ago. Jaskier tried to settle on the lumpy ground for the night, tried to ignore that prickling restlessness beneath his skin, but he couldn’t will it away, couldn’t force himself into a fitful sleep like he had the past several nights. He tossed again, unable to stifle a sigh, when the witcher rolled onto his side to glare at him.

“Would you stop your fussing?”

“Fussing? I’m not fussing, Geralt, I can’t sleep.”

“Can’t you not sleep quietly?”

He snorted. “What a very stupid question. Weren’t you just saying yesterday that I don’t even think quietly?” Tired and frustrated and horny as all hell, Jaskier opted for the truth. Watching Geralt get that uncomfortable, vaguely constipated look he got when Jaskier talked about sex always provided an amusing distraction, at least. He sighed melodramatically, adopting a most put-upon voice. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve indulged in the wondrous carnalities of a companion, Geralt?”

“Don’t really care.”

“Ages, Geralt, it’s been ages. At least a week. Some may bear the cruelties of celibacy with stoic fortitude, my dear witcher, but alas, some of us simply are not so equipped. We really should stop in the next village. It’d do us both a world of good to sleep in a bed, particularly one that’s warm, if you get my drift.”

The witcher looked at him with that inscrutable expression. “Plenty of chances for you to get your dick wet once we reach Gors Velen.”

Jaskier darted up, horrified, all pretensions forgotten. “Gors Velen?” he whined. “You said yourself we’re still a month away from Gors Velen!”

Geralt shrugged. “You’ve got a hand.” With that, he turned his back to Jaskier.

And well. It had been Geralt’s suggestion, after all, and Jaskier may have many attributes to his credit and otherwise but shyness has never been counted among them. And if perhaps he put on a bit of a show, fucking up into his hand with a little more bitten-lip moaning, a little more breathless panting than was strictly necessary, well, it served Geralt right for brushing off his perfectly legitimate concerns so rudely. And if he came particularly hard with a surprised gasp that was all too genuine when he shot a glance at his companion and saw the witcher facing him again, perfectly still, with an intent, impenetrable expression that Jaskier thought looked almost intrigued, well, that served Geralt right, too.

And that’s how this thing with Geralt started.

The next night, Jaskier made no such fuss when he laid down atop his bedroll, brazenly pulling his cock from his smallclothes and stroking himself languidly as he met that golden stare with something akin to a challenge. “You too?” he asked, breathless, and moaned as he watched Geralt’s hand drift down to palm himself through the rough cotton.

A few nights later Jaskier laid out their bedrolls side by side, not touching but nearly. “It’s not quite fair, is it,” he explained, rolling his balls indulgently with one hand as he set a lazy pace with the other. “You with your extraordinary superhuman witchery senses, you get to hear every little noise I make, see every little expression on my devilishly handsome face from all the way across the fire. Seems like we ought to level the playing field, as it were.”

“Don’t need witcher senses to hear you,” Geralt groused, but the corner of his lip crooked in what could only be the hint of a grin as he settled in beside him without protest, taking himself in hand and echoing Jaskier’s tempo.

(Geralt can maintain his blank expression fairly well while getting off, Jaskier knows now, but he’s slightly less guarded when it comes to sound, to the noises too soft and unintentional to be noticed without such proximity. The little hitch when he twists his wrist just so at the head; the low rumbling of a moan in his chest that never reaches his lips when he’s close, so close; the voiceless exhale when he comes that sometimes, when it’s really good, sounds as though it’s been punched out of him; the abortive, shuddering breaths as his strokes turn into the gentlest trailing of the fingertips down his shaft just past the point of oversensitivity, prolonging that sweet touch until it can no longer be endured.)

The next night, well. A hand’s a hand, and there’s not so very much difference between wanking and assisting your very best friend in the whole wide world wanking, really.

And that’s what this is. Jaskier has no grandiose romantic notions, not about this, not really. It’s not about the passionate heat of bodies entwined, it’s just hands and cocks to aid with sleep and that’s all it has to be. This thing with Geralt is about getting off, not about sex, and he’s not entirely sure he understands this arbitrary boundary he’s constructed but the distinction feels crucial nevertheless. It’s a matter of convenience, not lust. Jaskier is content with this arrangement. It’s more than he ever hoped to experience with his lovely, taciturn friend, and that’s enough. He can enjoy these encounters with Geralt without needing them, without craving something more, without deluding himself into thinking they’re...something else. Paramours. Lovers.

Anyway, this was all going swimmingly until Geralt throttled a man on his behalf and it was the most arousing thing he’d ever witnessed. Now Jaskier is pressed up against him on a horse riding from a town in which they are no longer welcome with what has got to be the most obnoxiously persistent erection of his life because he can’t stop imagining those hands around his throat.

“Whoa, Roach.” Jaskier feels the witcher’s body tense against him as he pulls on the reins, halting as they approach a small copse of trees. “This’ll do.” He dismounts gracefully and Jaskier scrambles behind.

He’d assumed that Geralt would be furious that they’d finally stopped at an inn only for Jaskier’s uncanny ability to find himself in trouble got them ousted, but he doesn’t seem furious as they set up the campsite. Not that he says anything, of course, and not that he would say anything if he were furious, but Jaskier has grown rather accustomed to reading Geralt’s silences. This particular silence doesn’t seem to be perturbed in any way. If anything, it almost seems amused. Surely he’s misreading something.

He’s just finished situating the bedrolls when he turns around and nearly slams into Geralt. “Bloody hell Geralt, are you trying to...oh.”

Geralt unceremoniously tugs the bow fastening Jaskier’s trousers loose, reaching into them and immediately setting to work with a sure, steady hand.

“...oh, you’re trying to...that.” He closes his eyes at the sensation.

Geralt’s hand stills, gripping him lightly. “Will I get some rest if we don’t?” His face remains impassive as ever, but there’s something in his grumble that Jaskier could almost swear sounds teasing, fond. “Rather deal with you now than listen to you toss about and whine for an hour pretending you’re trying to sleep.”

And Jaskier could protest because honestly, he hasn’t since that first night, but he allows it, lets Geralt have his excuse because something’s different tonight. They never touch until they’ve undressed and settled into their bedrolls for the night. It’s just a part of the routine.

Nothing about this feels routine.

He lets out a laugh that’s a bit higher than he intends as Geralt resumes fisting his cock. “My, my, someone’s eager tonight,” he breathes, and all right, he may have no room to talk, but Geralt initiating this is beyond uncharacteristic.

A hum resonates deep in his chest. “Felt you rubbing up on me since we left town. You’re not subtle, bard.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not…subtle? Fuck.”

The witcher rolls his eyes. “Smelled you before that,” and honestly, fuck Geralt for wanting to have a conversation all of a sudden now that Jaskier’s completely incapable of it, “back in the tavern. What was it?” Geralt is shifting them, guiding him carefully, his hand never losing its rhythm, until Jaskier feels the trunk of a sturdy oak at his back. “What got you so hard in the middle of a bar fight?”

A knee slips casually between his legs, and the hard line of Geralt’s still-clothed cock presses against his hip, rutting ever so gently. “Gods, Geralt.” It comes out a whine, and Jaskier’s sure he’ll hate himself later for how easily he’s undone but now there’s just contact, so much touch all over and hot breath against his neck and he lets his eyes flutter closed, lets himself feel.

“Did you actually fuck that man’s wife earlier? While I was at the armourer’s, maybe? Did she leave you with some good memories?”

It takes a second for Jaskier to catch up to the question with Geralt’s hard body leaned against him, a delightful weight. Right. Man in the bar. Implied he’d cuckolded him, that’s what determined the course of this whole bizarre evening.

“Or was it the barmaid? Was she what distracted you in the middle of that scene you caused?” Geralt sounds perfectly unaffected, somehow, that mild, ribbing tone he uses when he pretends to scoff at Jaskier’s antics. “The redhead. The one whose bed you hoped to be in tonight.”

And he’s right, of all the people in the crowded tavern she’d been the one who caught his eye, the one he’d be planning to direct his next song to. Of course Geralt had noticed. Geralt knows what Jaskier wants. Knows what he needs.

And that’s...that’s what this is, that’s what he’s doing. Jaskier had planned to find a lover for the evening, planned to slip into a blissful haze of fucking where he doesn’t have to concentrate on keeping this unwelcome longing at bay and even though it’s Jaskier’s own fault that opportunity slipped through his fingers, Geralt wants to give him some semblance of that release. It’s why he’s talking, why he’s bringing up these women he assumes drove Jaskier to distraction.

And with Geralt’s breath on his skin and hand on his cock and body leaned so heavily against his, Jaskier wants to give him an answer. Wants to give him everything there is.

What got you so hard in the middle of a bar fight?

Jaskier grasps the hand not stroking his cock and brings it to his throat.

The world stops.

His eyes fly open to meet Geralt’s, and he knows he’s made a mistake. The witcher withdraws quickly, stepping away, turning his back.

“Fuck, Geralt, no, I’m—”

“Stop.” Geralt doesn’t face him, but he’s not leaving, at least. “Don’t.”

Jaskier leans back against the tree, trying to catch his breath. He scrubs his hand over his face. Leave it to Jaskier to fuck up something this divine.

He watches those broad shoulders lower, his breathing even out, but the tension is still written in every line of his body. Geralt stands silent for a moment before he quietly asks, “That’s what...at the tavern?”

Wretched, Jaskier nods, but of course Geralt can’t see that, so he stammers out, “Ah, yes. It seems so.”

When he speaks again, his voice remains carefully flat. “You were afraid of me?”

“What?”

“Were you afraid of me? Back at the tavern.” He considers, then adds, “Or now?”

“Geralt, no,” and maybe he shouldn’t, maybe he should give him space, but Jaskier pushes away from the tree, scurrying over to him and clutching his shoulders frantically. “No, listen to me, Geralt, I’m a horny idiot, that’s the thing, it was just...I don’t know, it was sexy! It was sexy, seeing you manhandle him, imagining if you manhandled me, maybe, with your gloves and your hands and your muscles, I don’t know, it was just a fantasy, I suppose, it just happened, but certainly not because I was scared you’d hurt me.” An ugly, desperate laugh rises from his throat unbidden. “If anything it’s because I know you wouldn’t, Geralt, I know you’d keep me safe.”

The witcher looks past him, but Jaskier sees the tension in his jaw release, sees his chest move a little more freely with his breath. After a moment, Geralt nods. “Thought perhaps I’d misread this.” It’s low, almost too low to hear.

“I want you,” Jaskier blurts out, and he should stop talking, he really means to stop talking, “I want you. Quite a lot. The rough, ah, the choking thing, that’s all just...I don’t need that. Don’t want anything you don’t want.”

It’s all a little too raw, a little too genuine, and Jaskier realizes with a sudden sinking feeling that this may actually be worse than his initial blunder, that an unexpected predilection for rough sex is one thing but voicing that longing he’s worked so hard to keep sectioned away is something else entirely.

He’s about to apologize when he hears the low hum.

Geralt is studying him, head tilted to one side. There’s nothing on his face to indicate disgust or excitement, no rejection or acceptance; just those golden eyes meticulously examining him, just like they had that first night. Curious. Intrigued.

Fuck. Jaskier doesn’t need a hand on his throat to make it hard to breathe.

“No gloves.”

“Sorry, what?”

Rough fingertips map his throat lightly, not pressing, not caressing, just exploring. Jaskier recognizes this look, it’s the same studious evaluation he’d seen Geralt give that nekker corpse yesterday before he began harvesting organs from it and that should definitely kill the mood here but it doesn’t. He pauses, wide finger resting over a thunderous artery. “They’re too thick. Wouldn’t be able to feel if it’s too much.”

“Right,” Jaskier rasps out. “Right, yeah, good. No gloves is good.” And if the image of being thrown about like a ragdoll and forced against a wall had seemed erotic, it somehow doesn’t compare to the overwhelming potency of these careful, analytical touches with Geralt monitoring his breath, his heartbeat, his face.

“Do you still want to try?” It’s a low rumble, but Geralt’s eyes are boring into him and all Jaskier can do is nod aggressively, grabbing Geralt’s hand and pulling him back until he’s leaned against the tree again, pausing only to fling off his open doublet.

Geralt shakes his head, quickly disciplining the little entertained smile that flits across his features but not before Jaskier sees it. It sends a reckless, euphoric thrill through his whole body. “Ah Geralt, admit it, you think I’m endearing,” he grins, striking a dramatic pose against the tree.

“You’re a nuisance,” he snorts, but he snakes his hand down the front of the bard’s trousers again, stroking him with just enough pressure to coax him back to hardness.

Jaskier rocks gently into his fist, a small contented sigh morphing into something much more ragged when he feels that solid hand back on his throat.

“Tap my arm if you want to stop.”

Jaskier nods, delighting in the way his flesh shifts under Geralt’s hand at the motion. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the fingers tighten. “Good?”

“Good.”

“More?”

“Please,” and it’s a whine but he doesn’t care. His eyes drift shut. It feels like the pounding pulse is flowing straight from his throat into Geralt’s hand, or maybe the other way around, it doesn’t matter when all he wants is to lose himself in this swelling, living tattoo.

The pressure lets up and there’s a rush, a bright heady flood of exhilaration and he can feel every cell tingling in his body as his lungs work overtime to compensate and he can’t help thrusting forward faster into the tight fist on his cock.

Geralt’s other hand stays in place, loosely cupping his throat, idly stroking the skin. “Eyes open,” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of Jaskier’s neck for just a moment, breathing him in, his own breath labored. When he pulls back he looks a little wrecked. “Eyes on me, yeah?”

Jaskier nods, leaning into both warm hands a little desperately. “More?”

Geralt groans as he applies careful, steady pressure.

It’s good. There’s something soothing about the gentle acceleration of that drumming, far-off and immediate at the same time, the only sound that exists here. Peaceful. Floaty, almost. He wonders vaguely if this is what Geralt feels when he meditates.

“Jaskier.” The voice cuts through the haze, low but firm, the softest command. He focuses on Geralt, that unwavering gaze fixed on him. “Stay with me.”

Where else would he want to be?

And he’s still floating but somehow those golden eyes are a tether, not grounding him entirely but keeping him from drifting away. And when the tension releases and the tidal wave of elation sweeps through him again it’s met with chapped lips on his throat and fingers scratching through the hair at the nape of his neck and a steadying weight against him, and when the dizziness settles and he rests against the reassuring stability of the oak behind him, then there’s shifting, moving, the harsh grinding voice asking a question Jaskier can’t make out but understands anyway, golden eyes full of that question staring up at him and Jaskier answers by threading his fingers through pale locks shining silver in the moonlight and the warm, strong hand stroking him is replaced with the soft heat of Geralt’s mouth.

He won’t last much longer, not with the way Geralt’s thick fingers grip him, digging into the meat of his ass, with the way he chokes a little taking Jaskier all the way down but keeps pulling him in, deeper, and it’s wet and messy and a little too divine.

“Fuck, Geralt, I…” he gasps, the closest to a warning he can formulate, but the witcher’s staring up at him through dark lashes and sucking him down harder and Jaskier surrenders, coming with a keening cry.

Geralt diligently works him through it, swallowing and dissolving into desperate noises around Jaskier as he feverishly strips his own cock. He releases Jaskier and buries his head in the crook of the bard’s hip, shoulders heaving harshly. Jaskier pets him soothingly, long fingers massaging his scalp tenderly through the broken moan, the shuddering aftershocks, the shallow breaths slowly evening out.

They stay that way for a few endless moments, neither willing to break the trance, the intimacy. Jaskier barely notices gentle fingers unlacing his boots, pulling off one then the other. Geralt deftly tucks the bard’s softening cock back into his smallclothes before carefully pulling off his trousers and folding them neatly. He stands slowly, guiding Jaskier to his bedroll and settling him there, crouching beside him moments later with a waterskin he presses to Jaskier’s lips.

“Best take care, witcher,” Jaskier teases softly, “a man could get used to such treatment.”

“Don’t,” Geralt grunts, but there’s no heat to it. He thoroughly inspects Jaskier’s neck, tilting his head one way then the other with two light fingers on his jaw. “Pain anywhere?”

“No pain.”

“Good.” Apparently satisfied, Geralt stands, undressing methodically and lying in his own bedroll. After a few moments of silence, he adds, “Wake me if anything hurts. Or if you have trouble breathing.”

Jaskier huffs a laugh, turning on his side to fix his companion with a rueful smile. “Geralt, have you ever known me to suffer in silence?” Those inscrutable eyes hold him, searching, so Jaskier reaches a tentative hand to his jaw. “Thank you. For your...indulgence.” There’s an entirely different tightness in his throat, suddenly. “For taking such good care of me.”

For a moment, Jaskier thinks Geralt may answer as he watches something unguarded yet still utterly indecipherable flit across the witcher’s scarred, handsome face. When he speaks, there’s something soothing in the low rumble. “Get some sleep, bard.”

And he does.

[winterrose527]

Prompt: Person A backs into Person B’s car.

Truly adored this one. Here you go, my love!

****

He was really starting to hate King’s Landing.

It wasn’t that he’d ever liked it. Even when they’d come to the capital for their eighth grade class trip, he and Jon couldn’t quite understand why anyone would want to live here.

And now, he did.

Well he didn’t want to but he did live here. He had for about two months. His family company was expanding and as the heir apparent he was in charge of opening the new office, a soft launch for his future as its leader.

With that in mind, he’d gone with very little argument. It wasn’t that there weren’t good reasons. It had given him a convenient excuse to get out of a relationship that had run its course without hurting anyone’s feelings, he was getting to build a team from the ground up, and he’d even gotten a pretty great apartment close to the beach.

Not that he could go anytime other than at night because it was too hot. And even with the salt air it still smelled like garbage.

None of that was anything compared to the people. This city was like a magnet for selfish, aspirational, people with non-existent moral compasses. And not only that, but there were a lot of them.

Which led to his least favorite thing about King’s Landing: the traffic.

It felt like he lost hours of his day to traffic. He would have taken the subway, but the line that would have taken directly from his doorstep to his office (the exact reason he’d chosen the apartment) was under emergency construction, because of course it was.

The light was green and yet the car in front of him wasn’t moving. He looked and saw that the driver was – is she plucking her eyebrows?

King’s Landing had turned him into something he hated. Robb Stark was officially a honker now.

“MOVE!” he yelled, even though his windows were up as he lay on his horn.

As though he was inconveniencing her, she made a big show of stopping what she was doing and started to drive. He went to place his foot on the gas and -bam.

“What the fuck?” he asked the general world.

A gold – yes gold – convertible had just backed up into his SUV.

He got out of the car, ready to let this person bear the brunt of every bit of frustration he’d been feeling for the past two months.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked as soon as his door closed, it was getting closer as they came around his car, “I am so sorry!”

“Yeah well –“ he started and then stopped. “I…uh… are you okay?”

It wasn’t exactly what he had planned on saying but he also hadn’t planned on the person who hit him being the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.

She shook her head, slender fingers brushing back naturally golden hair (after two months here he could spot the difference), “I’m fine, I am just so embarrassed. And sorry. Is your car damaged?”

“Um, I don’t know,” he admitted, realizing he should have been thinking about that rather than wondering how her legs could seemingly go on for miles though she would hardly make it up to his shoulder. He started walking towards her and she turned and lead him around his car. And then bent over. “Looks good to me.”

“Thank the gods,” she said with a hand to her chest, straightening up and peering over at him, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He nodded, “It was just a little love tap.” Her eyes widened and he blushed, “What a stupid fucking thing to say, huh?”

She laughed, “Original, though.” Then held out her hand, “I’m Myrcella Baratheon.”

He shook her small one, and introduced himself, “Robb Stark. Can I ask you something?” She nodded, her hand still in hers, “What is a girl like you doing with a car like this?”

This girl was all class. Her structured white shorts and silk button down, fresh face, pale nails as opposed to the garish red pointed ones so many women down here wore.

The car was decidedly not.

“It’s not mine,” she told him and his stomach clenched, wondering if it belonged to a boyfriend that was clearly in no way good enough for her. “It’s my older brother’s. He’s… the actual worst.” He opened his mouth and she smiled, taking her hand up and holding it up in front of her, “The worst. Look at his license plate.”

He glanced at it and saw that it read KING JOFF.

He laughed, “It hurts.”

“Hey Robb, I know I just rear ended you and all, but can I show you something?” she asked.

Anything he might of said. Instead he just nodded.

She turned and walked down the length of the car and he followed her and then she pointed at the rearview mirror.

“Do I need to see a neurologist or is that not a mirror?” she asked.

He leaned over and his jaw dropped, “That is not a mirror… I think it’s some sort of…mosaic? And definitely not legal. You could have taken out the whole city with this thing.”

“Thank the gods, I thought I was going crazy, it’s just that my car is in the shop-,” he smirked at her and she rolled her eyes and smiled, self-deprecatingly, “For a standard tune up. I should have known there would be a catch when he offered to let me borrow this one.”

“Yeah I don’t recommend you drive this thing,” he told her, then asked stupidly, “Do you need a ride somewhere?”

He watched as a blush rose on her cheeks and she demurred, “That’s alright. I can’t inconvenience you anymore than I already have. Thank you, though.”

He nodded, because he did have a meeting he was supposed to be at in about ten minutes.

“Well… could I maybe have your number?” he asked.

She nodded immediately, “Yes, of course, I won’t be on his insurance so please just get a quote and send me whatever it is. I’ll make it right.”

“Oh,” he shook his head, realizing that while that was the normal reason to have asked the woman who just rear ended you for her number it was absolutely not something that had even occurred to him. “No that was actually my way of asking you out.”

A smile landed on her face so quickly that it brought one to his own.

“You’re asking me out?” she asked.

“Trying to,” he agreed.

She crossed her arms over her chest, thinking something over and asked, “And what if this was my car?”

“Um,” he laughed as he thought about it, “Well I’d still ask you out. I would just never ever agree to drive anywhere with you in it.”

She giggled, and then informed him in a stage-whisper, “I drive a hybrid.”

“Family dinners must be interesting,” he teased.

“Oh you have no idea,” she smiled.

“I’d like to,” he told her.

She grinned again and then knocked a pair of tortoiseshell sunglasses off of her head and onto her nose, “You know, you’re a lot smoother than the last guy I rear ended.” He opened his mouth and she told him, “Kidding.Do you have your phone?”

He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. She typed her number in and then handed the phone back to him.

“Are you going to be alright getting this back in there?” he asked, gesturing to what looked to be a private garage.

She nodded, “Thankfully he didn’t cover the windshield in crystals.”

He chuckled, “No because that would be tacky. Well get home safe, Myrcella Baratheon. I’ll call you soon.”

She gave him a heart stopping grin and then opened her door and eased into the driver’s seat. He went around his car and got back in, easing back into traffic.

Thankfully it was fairly light the rest of the way so he was only a little bit late for his meeting.

It was a busy day, some final interviews that people had wanted him to take part in, some calls with his Dad and Jon up north. So it wasn’t until later, as he walked the beach still in his suit, his shoes off and the sand beneath his feet, that he had a chance to call her.

He scrolled through to M, but Mom was the last entry.

“Was it Marcella?” he asked the sea.

He scrolled up just to be sure, but the only Marcella in his phone was a girl he’d met on a vacation in the Summer Isles. He deleted the contact because he hadn’t spoken to her in a full five years.

No girl had ever not given him her number before. He knew that it happened, it just hadn’t ever happened to him. There weren’t many that he asked for, and only when he felt something that seemed reciprocated. And though they’d only had a limited conversation, it seemed like they had.

She’d been so sweet and sorry and cute, pointing out her brother-

He scrolled up to the Ks and would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy sighing in relief when he saw King Joff waiting for him.

Without hesitating he pressed call and listened as it rang once, twice.

“Hello?” a soft voice asked.

“I’m uh, looking to speak to the king,” he greeted her.

Her giggle filled his ear, “Don’t even mention him I am in SUCH trouble. How are you Robb Stark?”

“I’m better now that I found your number, two scares in one day? Is this what it’s going to be like with you?” he asked.

“I’m free tomorrow night,” she informed him, “Want to find out?”

***

Two months later…

“And of course,” he sighed as he slowed down behind a bright yellow SUV.

“I would think you’d be used to the traffic by now and besides,” Myrcella noted at his side, “I would have thought you’d be fine being late for dinner with my family.”

“Your mother already hates me enough,” he pointed out, “I can’t afford to be late on top of being northern, being a man, being unrelated to you, being sexually attracted to you, being liberal, being alive…”

The light had turned green and yet the cars in front of him hadn’t moved. He went to go honk his horn but Myrcella grabbed his hand before he could.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hello,” he returned.

“Do you know what’s nice about traffic?” she asked. He raised his brow and she smiled, “I get to do this.”

With that she leaned in and kissed his lips softly. He kissed her back less so, his fingers carding into her hair as she opened her mouth to his.

Cars had started honking all around him, but in that moment he didn’t care.

He was really starting to love King’s Landing.

[adhd-disaster-willie]

like lemongrass and sleep; chapter 1/?

summary: "Julie was 5 years old and overflowing with spirit when her teacher sat her beside the spitfire Flynn Miller. She remembers taking one look at this girl’s wild smile and neatly braided curls and deciding that she wanted to be able to look at her every single day for the rest of her life." or, Julynn childhood best friends to lovers

word count: 1,516

warnings: none

notes: Flynn will be using she/her pronouns for the first chapter or so, cause they haven't started thinking about gender or come out yet.

---

Julie was 5 years old and overflowing with spirit when her teacher sat her beside the spitfire Flynn Miller. She remembers taking one look at this girl’s wild smile and neatly braided curls and deciding that she wanted to be able to look at her every single day for the rest of her life. It was quite the profound realization, but at the time, she didn’t really care to recognize the depth of it, only that she had found herself a best friend and she had to show Flynn the tree in her backyard. And so that was that, they were attached at the hip and 5 years flew by in a blur of scraped knees and pinkie promises and friendship bracelets and breathless laughter.

Flynn swung her neon-bandaid covered legs over the highest tree branch and grinned down at Julie with a sparkle in her eyes. “I win!” She cried giddily. “That’s-”

“3 for you and none for me,” Julie finished with a pout, hoisting herself up to join Flynn and wrinkling her nose at the height. “I still won at uno.”

“Because it’s a stupid game!” Flynn protested. “You can’t win at a game that’s all luck!” She threw her hands in the air and narrowly avoided going careening off the branch.

The sun was slowly setting and Julie knew dinnertime was fast approaching, the scent of her mom’s cooking wafting in from the back door that’s been left open (she’ll worry about that later when she gets mosquito bites in her sleep.) Julie beamed up at the pink sky and shoved Flynn lightly. “Ms. Nelson said there’s gonna be a new student next week.”

“I hope it’s not a boy,” Flynn replied. “Boys are gross.” She picked at a piece of bark before tossing it over the fence and watching with a giggle as it landed in the neighbors pool. She swung backwards until she was hanging off the branch by her legs, her curls bouncing slightly as she swayed back and forth. Julie bit her lip anxiously, this was the exact thing that got Flynn sent home from the hospital with a bright red cast in 2nd grade. Granted, she wasn’t too bothered by it, because having a broken arm in 2nd grade means you’re the most popular kid in the school for at least 2 months, and she didn’t have to write a thing while it was still healing. But, still.

Flynn swung back up, wobbling slightly, and blew at the loose hair hanging in her eyes. “Ha, didn’t break my arm that time!” She exclaimed pridefully. Julie raised an eyebrow.

“The new kid's name is Alex Mercer.”

Flynn’s eyes widened and she quickly took to mouthing the alphabet. “Oh good, we’ll still be next to each other.”

“Hmm, I’d change my last name if we got separated,” Julie said, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You mean it?” Flynn asked, beaming.

“100 percent. No one can split up double trouble.” Julie held out her pinkie to prove it and Flynn giggled, locking their fingers together.

There was a sort of childhood wonder hanging in the air, like pixie dust. It’s strange, how as children, no one seems to recognize it. They’ll sit perched on the highest branch without a care in the world, until the streetlights turn on. And the whole world will go silent before midnight, curled up in tattered sleeping bags in the living room with a flickering night light to ward off ghosts. It was all so awfully simple.

---

Alex Mercer was lanky and blond and had a worried crease between his eyebrows that your average 10 year old doesn’t tend to have. He clutched a baggy, too-big fannypack to his chest, and Julie desperately wanted to know what was in it. Surely it had to be something interesting; maybe he was a wizard and that was where he kept all his potions and spellbooks. Flynn was incredibly disappointed that the new student was a boy, but still let herself be dragged over to him at recess, where he was sat anxiously on the curb, fiddling with the hem of his loose pink hoodie that was way too warm for September in LA.

“Hello!” Julie pulled Flynn down with her and sat beside Alex. “I like your bag.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You can tell me if it there’s a magic wand in there.” Alex only shook his head.

“No there’s just”- he opened the zipper and showed her the quite disappointing contents- “tissues and- and my inhaler.”

“And a pen.” Flynn pointed out. She reached in and grabbed the pen, clicking it gleefully. “It’s pink.”

Alex flushed slightly. “Uh yea…”

“Cool!” Flynn poked Julie with the end of the pen and laughed. Julie snatched it from her hand with a stern look.

“It’s a very nice pen,” Julie said, handing it back to Alex. “I like gel pens, they write so much smoother.” She held out her hand the way Carrie’s dad, Trevor, told her to do, because it was good manners. “I’m Julie.” Alex took her hand and shook it gingerly.

Alex was, as Julie quickly learned, a mess of way too much anxiety than should be able to fit in one person. He’d moved last week, and it wasn’t much of a change, but enough that he had to switch schools. He had three best friends back at his old school (Luke, Reggie, and Bobby) that would be going to their same middle school, his favorite color was pink, and he liked to dance. These are all things that Julie filed away in her mind. She liked to remember things about people, like how Carrie hated grape candy, and Flynn had the prettiest smile of anyone Julie knew. Remembering things about people meant you cared, and they would stick around.

---

It doesn’t snow in LA. It hadn’t snowed in LA since 1962 and the only time Julie had seen it was the winter she was six and her family went up to Oregon for a week. But one crisp December morning in 2014, Julie rolled out of bed and pressed her face to the fogged over window only to find a blanket of fresh white snow covering everything as far as the eye could see. She hardly had her coat on before she was out the door, wriggling from her mother’s grasp because “Mom it’s snowing! I don’t need breakfast!” Donning purple rainboots and a matching wool scarf that was way too long and dragged behind her as she ran, Julie bolted to Flynn’s house as fast as her legs could carry her, clad in three layers of jeans.

There was snow! Falling in big fat flakes and landing on the trees and the tops of houses and Julie’s hat. She had to squint a bit, as the snow melted on her glasses and blurred her vision, but it was more than worth it. Julie reached Flynn’s house in a flurry of mismatched winter clothes and wild eyes, and Flynn was already on the porch, bouncing impatiently as her dad wrapped a thick scarf around her neck.

“Hi Mr. Miller!” Julie chirped with an enthusiastic wave. Flynn’s dad waved back before turning to zip up Flynn’s bulky coat.

“Daaaad,” Flynn whined, scratching at the knitted hat covering her ears. “Can I please go into the snow now?”

“Yes Flynn,” he sighed, patting her atop the head once for good measure. “Be careful-”

“Bye dad!”

“Bye Mr. Miller!”

“Let’s goooo!”

It was as if the whole world was holding it’s breath, capturing Julie’s little suburban town in a bubble. Julie grasped Flynn’s mittened hand and dragged her through the blanketed streets, with a laugh perpetually on the tip of her tongue. There were snowflakes in her eye lashes and sticking to the top of her hat like velcro. Stumbling into the field by the school, Julie swung Flynn around in a circle, both of them shrieking with uncontained laughter, heads held to the gray sky. She didn’t know it at the time, but this moment would forever live in a corner of Julie’s mind. The place where she sets aside things she doesn’t want to forget; things like Flynn’s 10th birthday and the days when she’d sit at the piano with her head on her mom’s shoulders and hum along to songs she’s heard a hundred times and could listen to a hundred more.

Julie collapsed into the snow with a deep exhale and an infectious grin, Flynn quickly following suit. “Hey Flynn?”

“Yea.”

“Do you think that if I close my eyes I’ll wake up in Narnia?” Julie asked, her voice soft and full of wonder.

“Aren’t you supposed to walk through a wardrobe?”

Julie shrugged. “Maybe.”

Flynn hummed, mulling it over for a minute. “Sure. But only if I get to come with.”

“Of course, stupid.” With a lopsided smile, Julie intertwined their pinkies and shut her eyes. Maybe she would wake up in Narnia, but she would rather stay here if it meant Flynn was next to her.

---

I really wanted this chapter to be longer but like, I felt like this was a good place to leave off. I hope you liked it! comment or send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list! :)))

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 85

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"What can you give me about Hill and her huntresses?" Ironwood asked me as we walked briskly up to his office.

"Fiona has some sort of matter absorption semblance. Evidently she can put a plane in her pocket and walk away. It's Striker ranged and probably limited to non-living things, I'm speculating on that bit. Still, it's supposed to be fairly wicked. May has the invisibility field. It's got a decent radius and it's mobile. It fucked with one of my own operations once. Sabotaged me. Then there's Joanna. She's got super strength, classic Brute," I informed him. "You want me here for this? I've had a run one with them before."

"You'll be with me," he affirmed. He swung the doors open to his office and he sat down at his desk.

I took to a corner by the window. I folded my arms. My sword hilt extended over my head.

"Their weapons?" Ironwood asked me.

"These crossbow staves. Probably modifiable with dust rounds. Except Hill. She's got a crossbow with blades on either side. My man described it as like a fan or an accordian."

"Your man?"

"A union leader down in Mantle. That's how he worked with Hill. You want the details?"

He shook his head. He steepled his hands before him and we waited. Penny came skipping into the room. She saw me, smiled, and waved at me. I grinned back at her and nodded.

"Oh are we acting brooding? I'll do my best." She imitated me by the far side of the long window.

"I don't need to act. I am brooding," I laughed back. "But yeah. A little."

"Hill should be up any minute."

"Good. I was getting tired of looking relaxed."

"I'm glad you two get along," Ironwood mumbled. "It bodes well. For you in particular, Strife."

"Eh, it's mostly Ruby." I kicked my foot around, rolling out my left ankle.

"Don't say that. I thought we were friends."

"We are, Penny. I'm trying to brood, though."

"I see…"

Hill pushed her way into the room with a small smile. She took me and Penny in. She had Fiona with her and another woman I recognized as Joanna Greenleaf from a photo.

Fiona nudged Hill. "That's him. Cloud Strife. The killer mercenary."

Hill glanced at me. "I've heard a bit about you, done some nasty business in my town. What? You working for Ironwood now?"

"For the foreseeable future. Judge ordered. You could probably find out about it. Given your seat," Ironwood returned from behind his steepled fingers.

"You give up the merc life?" She asked. Her question directed at me.

"For now," I answered.

"You're a dangerous man, Strife, I'd be glad to hear you're playing for the good guys. If that's what's going on here."

"It sort of is. You fucked with my operation. Don't think I don't know."

"I did nothing illegal. Nothing anybody could prove at any rate." She showed her teeth. I liked her. "Not like you and Taurus."

"You heard anything about him?" I wondered. "I have a blood score to settle with the bastard."

"Not a peep. He's been laying low. Like I thought you and your illusionist were. Color me surprised to find you standing beside the General. Right beside the protector of Mantle after the shit you pulled."

Maybe this was why Ironwood wanted me here. To divert her focus. I doubted he wanted me for moral support. He wanted me on as a distraction. So I'd be as distracting as possible.

"Those charges were dropped," Penny said.

"You hear that?" I asked. "It's like I never did it."

"But you did do it," Fiona spat. "You killed people."

"Interesting way you phrased that," Hill said with a hand raised at Fiona beside her.

"I only killed other criminals." I shrugged. "And I got time served with a hefty fine."

"Meaningless to someone like you," Hill countered.

"Not meaningless. Just the best I could have hoped for."

"But are you reformed? Do you serve Atlas and Mantle well?" Robyn wondered.

"To the very best of my ability, I protect the people now."

"Will you swear by it?" Hill held out her hand.

"Sure. I'll promise." I took her hand. Purple flowed over my hand as I took hers and it wreathed both of us.  "What do you want me to say?" I asked. Words could be very particular.

"That you serve as a guardian to the people, now."

"I serve as a guardian to the people now." I echoed. I technically did before too. Her aura flashed green. It must have registered as true because she reclined looking satisfied.

"Now that that's settled we can get down to business. When will the new tower be ready for launch?"

"Classified. You shouldn't even know about the tower," Ironwood returned.

"But I do. And this will go smoother if we work together, General. I can vote in your favor or I can vote against you at every turn. I can even raise a vote of no confidence."

The General grimaced. I think that he hoped I'd buy him more time before the nitty-gritty.

Robyn leaned over his desk and spread her palms on it. Hunching over on him.

"What's it gonna be, General? I can do worse besides. I can petition to have your council seat taken away. How long will your precious tower take to get completed then. Work with me. I just want to talk."

"You want to talk for now."

"That's right," Hill returned. "I might change my mind based on what I hear, too." At least she was open and clear about it. The value of her prizing honesty.

"The launch is two months out." Ironwood stated.

He stood up and towered over Hill with her slumping over the desk. She recoiled back and stretched to her full height. It was still nowhere near the General and closer to me though she was tall for a woman.

"All of our attention has been on raising the tower and restoring communications between the kingdoms."

"Even though Mantle suffers," she murmured.

I thought about saying something like 'Mantle always suffers' but I kept my mouth shut. It wasn't the time. Never let be said I couldn't be diplomatic.

"Some sacrifices have had to be made to get things done but we're in the final stretch now. No going back."

"I want things to get better for Mantle, General. And fast."

"I'm working as fast as I can," Ironwood vowed.

"I want you to slow down the launch of it means things can get better for Mantle. Diverting both supplies and huntsmen."

"That isn't practical."

"Practical be damned. Mantle always bears the lion's share of the suffering for Atlas. All for it's floating neighbor. You want me to not vote against you at every turn so this project gets completed? You're going to have to make concessions. That means voting my way on minimum wage increases and miner safety standards. Even if those safety standards set back your little project."

Ironwood sighed. It sounded like she had him in a corner.

"We are so close." He grunted. He sounded frustrated and exasperated. "So close to getting this project done. For everybody's benefit."

"Well it just got further away. One way or another. Not one more miner will die for this or anything else. They matter to me. What's it gonna be, James?"

"Friends call me James. You can call me Ironwood or General."

"Petty," she clicked her tongue. She had him in a vice though. She'd be petty and slow down the project too. She was a woman of her word. No one with a semblance like that wouldn't be.

"It sounds like I've got little choice. Just know that once my project is complete I won't back down so easily anymore."

"I'm counting on it, General," she turned on a clicking heel and left. Her tour de force departed with her.

"Sorry. I tried but she wasn't going to be distracted. Not by me and not by Penny."

Ironwood groaned. "The launch just got set back a month. Minimum. And if I start capitulating now who knows when it will end."

"She's a woman of her word. So you've got that going for you."

"At least it wasn't Jacque Schnee," Penny chipped in brightly. "This election could have gone much worse. She's willing to work with you if you work with her."

My scroll chirped. I pulled it out of my pocket.

"Strife. Who’s this?"

"Aurum. I've got a hit on your lady friend. She's here. She's threatening me. She demanded my information. She was asking the same sort of questions you were. I need to know what that's about now."

"You don't. I'll be there."

"My life is on the line! She immolated my men!"

"Try and hold her there. I'm coming. Let's get lucky and kill her."

"Sorry Cloud but I have got to do what I got to do to protect my business."

"Just hold her. I'm on my way."

I cut the connection.

"Something important?" Ironwood asked.

"I got a hit on Cinder. She's about to burn one of my contacts to death. I need to get there."

Ironwood nodded. "Do you need reinforcements? I'll call Ace Ops."

"Better call Team RWBY too and put them on standby with Qrow. She's at The Den."

"I'm sending Penny with you."

"Let's go Penny." I said with a nod by the door. "You and I will fly there."

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Penny and I swooped down on The Den. "You take her accomplices. Let me worry about Cinder."

"Do you believe that you can defeat her?"

"We're about to find out." Let’s hope that sounded confident.

I bust in the door to find the club empty and quiet. The lack of music and the distant smell of inhalants gave the place a void like feeling. It was strangely empty and lacking.

"Sorry Cloud. It's nothing personal. Just business, you understand." It was Aurum's voice coming from the top floor above me. "She forced me. You get it."

There was the clink of glass heels on the floor above us and Cinder Fall came into view.

"You," she purred. "Jaune Arc was it? I owe you for when last we met." Her one eye glowed like embers.

"It was. Not anymore. It's Cloud now."

"A change in name will mean little to my mistress. You're her son."

"Hardly. She didn't raise me," I shot back. I drew the broadsword from over my shoulder. I gripped the enormous handle beneath the titanic cross guard the shield helped form.

"She has bade me not kill you and your sisters have a certain fury I would dread but whatever happens happens," she sung. She spread her fingers and a flame grew across them. "You would have had me last time if not for my maiden powers. Powers which have doubled. I'm sure you are aware. And you've been spying for me. Through this rabble but you've been on the look out nonetheless."

She made Aurum call me, then. Aurum dashed out the exit, trying to keep his life intact and escaping while we were both distracted. Cinder set a trap for me. Sustrai stepped out from behind Cinder with Black in tow. I watched and my vision faded as Sustrai narrowed her eyes at me. She was trying to use her semblance on me.

I shouted at Penny and I watched a blurring kaleidoscope fly up to them and slash out at Emerald with ten floating blades appendages. My vision snapped back into focus and in perfect time for me to see Cinder descending on me with flames pouring from her feet to aid her assault. As she flew she left fire behind on the glass dance floor. I met a strike from her similarly glass weapons and stuttered back a step on the dance floor.

I activated my semblance and brought my weapon around to match her. I drew an electric crystal from my pocket. I crushed it in my palm and sent a thunderbolt at her. She blocked it by crossing her weapons and her one eye flared at me with the power of the maidens. She gestured and a half dozen fireballs floated into place before her. She blew gently. Like she was blowing a kiss at me, I didn’t catch it, and I was forced to dance out of the way of the fireballs.

I went through them. I rolled and floated towards her through the conflagration. I stabbed my sword downward and tore up glass as I pushed it screeching across the dance floor towards her. She met my strike with both her weapons crossed.

Then she struck out at me in high, low, high fashion, alternating each blade. She twirled with the motion and I was forced on the defensive, blocking each one of her attacks. I never let her truly get close to me with the enormous blade between us.

She waved her palm and a flare shot up inside the tight room towards me. I couldn't be sure how Penny was doing against her two opponents because I was too focused on Cinder.

I blocked her and seesawed my weapon down on her. Sparks flew from her glass weapons from where my Titania edge but down into them.

"I'm going to kill you this time. We'll see how my Mother takes that," I whispered. I spoke softly as I threatened her. As I made my vow.

Lightning ran up her weapons and into my arms. It made me tremble in pain for a moment before she pushed me off of her and kicked me in my exposed chest. Then she flew at me.

"Aren't you quite the little rebel. Doing what makes mommy mad?" She laughed at that.

"Oh I'll piss her right the fuck off. Can't imagine she was happy I didn't bring the relic to her."

She pointed her sword at me and there was a kazzap of lightning. I blocked it on the edge of my weapon but she just swung her weapon around her body again. A trail of fire emanating from it and growing larger until she whipped a lash of red hot blaze right at my head.

I rolled again and came up thrusting at her, forcing her to block. She swung at me with one of her glass weapons but at the far range of my weapon I was too distant and she miscalculated.

She dropped into a crouch and pointed both her weapons at me and there was another mighty kazizzle of electricity.  I jumped over it and brought my weapon down on her head in a move that forced her to block with both of her own. It shattered the dance floor around us for yards and yards. All the way to the edge near the bar.

"You're right of course. She was most displeased. She will punish you for it given the opportunity. I think not, however. You will die here."

She waved her hand and a gale picked up. All the glass from the once smooth and now shattered dance floor flew up from it. She gestured at me and I hunkered behind the wide edge of my weapon and weathered the storm of glass pellets. Some struck into my aura and chipped it away. I held firm against the wind.

Blue light still licked at my body but it seemed like my semblance would not be enough. I couldn't imagine spending it and then being forced to fight her without it. If I spent it, when I spent it, it would have to be for the kill. I could use it for no other purpose. And it would probably have to be the Octa slash. No other attack would do enough damage in a single go to take her down except maybe a Finishing Touch.

I'd hardly touched her. Hadn't touched her, I realized.

When the gale broke down she hit me hard with both flaming feet. Not as hard as Penny had with a similar move but hard enough to send me stumbling back. Next she delivered three lighting fast diagonal slashes to my torso. She ripped away massive chunks of my aura.

Then she thrust forward and I blocked to the side. Her weapon buried in my personal soul based force field to the hilt right next to my head. She still managed to rip away a chunk of blue light from my body.

Things were seriously not good. Her magic was too much for me and her competence with a blade in each hand was nothing to scoff at.

I kicked her back. A move that caught her in the gut. Then I swung my blade towards her head in a massive strike that she caught with both her weapons. Making yet another 'x' shape. It seemed to be her go to in order to block against my titanic sword.

I screamed and flew at her. Closing the little distance between us with a shoulder check that knocked her to the ground.

I danced at her, flowing like water as she caught herself on one hand and tried to cartwheel back but I chased her roll now that she was out of position. Now that she was in serious disadvantage and close to me I made to capitalize on it.

I caught up to her and hit her once vertically diagonally downward and to the right. Then I reversed and came diagonally up and to the left. Then I can back down on her diagonally and from the right once more in a staggering triple hit. The kind I'd seen do twenty-five percent or more of Ruby's aura when I wasn't Limit Broken. When I wasn't Limitless.

I didn't spend the charge on it but I did shout, a scream left my lips as I performed the move with exertion. It flung her back and into one of the bars and into the wall in a shattering of glass and bottles.

She flew out of the hole in the wall and through the crevice her body had left in the bar. A trail of flame coming behind her and at her feet. I flew to meet her and where we struck the ground rippled like it was made of liquid for a moment before elasticity caught up with it and it shattered.

I was taller than her. I was conventionally stronger, too. Especially while Limit Break was active and I slowly lowered my weapon down onto her while her back twisted from trying to match me in the crater on the floor.

She kicked my leg at the hip but I only grunted and took it. I took one hand off my blade and backhanded her hard with my knuckles. Then I slid forward a step and reversed my hand and grabbed her by the throat and picked her up into the air. I pulled her in and kneed her in the stomach hard enough to make spittle fly from her lips.

Then Mercury came flying and kicked me in the back. Then he shot me in the back with both of his boot guns.

I twisted to my feet again on a pocket of air. He was breathing hard. So was Cinder where I'd knocked the wind out of her.

I wasn't much better and now that they were alone Emerald let out a scream where Penny slammed her hard into a wall.

"Ma'am…" Mercury trailed.

"Save Emerald," Cinder hissed.

Then I gambled. I dashed forward like I was going to hit Cinder. Then I spent Limit on a thrust but not at her. I thrust up and into Mercury's aura and then into his chest in a crackle of violet energy.

Blood flew from his lips as I speared him. Penny had done enough work for this to pay off and from the sounds of things she'd defeat Emerald too.

"No," Cinder whispered. The battle was out of her favor.

"Yes!" I roared. The edge was ours now.

I watched as Emerald plucked herself from the wall and fell to her knees. A tear on her face as we all saw Mercury slide onto my six foot blade.

"Emerald! Get us out of here!" Cinder called.

I swung my sword and Mercury flopped off the blade. He was already dead. I flexed and started charging my next semblance. With slow promise I stood and began the charge. Soon.

"Emerald!" Cinder barked. I was assaulted with a massive illusion. Penny was too from the way she stepped back in shock on the second floor. A gigantic image of my Mother rose from the twisted glass and roared.

Cinder burned a hole in the wall and grabbed Emerald's sobbing form and fled. I was too shocked by the cyclopean vision of my Mother to move.

"Cloud!" Penny called to me distantly. I fell to my knees before the image of my Mother and held my hands up like I was expecting an attack, I fumbled my sword with dumb hands. My brain burned and my mind was ajar.

Mother…

I thought. And despite that I knew it was an illusion. Despite the distance between us I heard her answer.

“My son…”

"No…" I whimpered.

“Yes…”  

The voice seethed.

“Yes… you belong to me… I am your mistress…”

I could feel her shadow on the corner of my mind. She twisted into me and trapped me between agonies I knew weren't true.

"Cloud are you alright?"

The massive image of my Mother faded. But she lingered on my brain. A growing pressure. I howled in pain. She raked at my body and I convulsed.

"Cloud, it wasn't real."

"She's in my… my… my…" I stuttered like a broken record player. Then I started to froth at the mouth. I seized on the broken dance floor.

“My son… my precious son…”

"Oh my gods!" I heard Penny cry. "Don't worry, Cloud, help is on the way!"

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[stardancerluv]

Punishments

Part One

Summary: Some agnst as been building in Reader. Tonight it explodes.

Note: The last bit I posted with Punishments was the inspiration for this. It turned into something different. In this I want to show how reader can be strong and still in touch with her emotions while being with Roman! Very angsty at parts.

Eyeing your reflection, turning you let your dress twirl. It made you smile. You wanted to look good. Tonight, you were not going to just be his good girl. You were so tired of just sitting there waiting and hoping Roman would come over. Lately, you had jot even been able to sit with him when he had a meeting. They were scattered around the club.

He had barely sat with you this week and even less last week. You had grown tired of this new wave of negotiations and deals he was making. You understood why he needed them. You also knew how great they were for his slice of Gotham.

Sitting alone at his table made you just feel like an accessory. You’d sit there and grow tired hoping, he’d come over for a brief word or look. Otherwise, no one ever approached you except the waiters to take the occasional order. You had not agreed to be his girl to be just bought off with presents and rolling around in bed.

When the two you were alone, sure he would share his victories. You were very proud of him. You knew, he was of your victories too.

So tonight, you had decided to make plans tonight with your friends. A few brought their boyfriends. You could only hope, Roman would come over and join you all. That you knew was hoping for too much.

You smoothed your stockings a final time before slipped into your heels. As a final touch, you spritzed on some perfume got you when he went to Europe to seal some overseas deals.

Once in the club for a moment, you faltered. Your friends had literally sat at the table next to his usual one, thankfully he wasn’t at it. After some hugs and squeals of delight you sat down with them.

You kept an eye out for Roman and Zsasz but didn’t spot either of them. Soon, the waitress came taking everyone’s orders. She also slipped you a note. Smiling you took it.

You opened it and some of your friends giggled.

Am I not having my lovely girl at my side tonight? Was all it said in Roman’s usual script. Looking around you didn’t spot him anywhere.

“Uh oh, someone got a love-note from Mr. Crime Lord.” You shot that one friend a look but everyone, lost themselves in giggles. You could only sigh.

“He was just wishing us a good night.” Folding, the note tucked it away in your purse.

“Will the famous Sionis, be joining us tonight?”

You shrugged and smiled. “Maybe?” You were relieved your words didn’t come out as a squeak. “He’s been very busy.”

“Right. Says the next star on the Rogue Wives of Gotham.” More giggles bubbled around you.

“Look, guys if I wanted to be the butt of jokes I would have hung out with the staff.” You sighed.

One spoke up. “The staff? You have staff now.”

More laughter, came from a few of them.

“Hey guys, come on. Let’s cut her some slack.” Your friend wrapped James wrapped an arm around you and gave you a squeeze. “They’re only jealous.” He whispered in your ear.

You nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t we come here to have fun. Like dancing and drinking? I only see bad, corny jokes that could have come from a high schooler. So who’s dancing?” He suggested.

When they were distracted them, you snuck away. This was going to be tougher then you thought.

Honestly, at this point you barely into what was supposed to be your night and you couldn’t decide if this night out was worth it. You should have just faked a headache or something. But looking around, you couldn’t spot Roman anywhere.

Searching out the private ladies-room with a sigh, you went to freshen up. You were relieved no one was there. Only a few female guests that came to the club knew of this exclusive bathroom. With a fluff of your hair after a few moments, you walked out.

Moments later, you found yourself being snatched away. They were so fast, you couldn’t scream. But you felt the familiar feel of a gloved hand sliding over your mouth.

A dark snicker, filled your ear as he carried you to a shadowy hallway. Stopped when he reached the large mirror at the end of it. Despite the annoyance that prickled at you, seeing how the two of you looked, was incredibly erotic.

“Look at us baby.” His breath was warm on your throat.

He had managed to envelop you with himself; from the feel of his solid warmth and the scent of his aftershave caused a knot of desire grow in the pit of your stomach.

You watched in the mirror as his lips curling into a smirk, his eyes glinting behind you. It was almost too much. The longer he held you, the harder your heart began to beat and the more you wanted him. “My pretty girl.” He added close to our ear, then pressed a kiss on your jaw. You shivered in delight but then you were reminded of how upset you were and you managed to wiggle free.

You turned to face him. “What the hell was that all about?”

He threw his head back and laughed.

“Roman.” You tapped your foot.

As he tilted his head back the mirth dimmed till it disappeared from his eyes. “I could say the same thing about you.”

“What do you mean?” You crossed your arms in front of you.

“I wanted my girl would be at my side but she isn’t.”

“You have barely sat with me all week. I decided to have a night with my friends.”

“That’s great, I’m happy you have but you should have told me.” He pressed his lips together. “I would have canceled my meetings and perhaps let them see how charming,” He shrugged, continuing. “of a boyfriend I can be.”

“Make it happen.” You challenged, you ran your hands up his soft suit-jacket. You saw him waver where he stood. The longer it took him to answer you, the longer it hurt. “Don’t you want to make your baby happy?” You lightly pouted.

“I can’t just drop things. You know damn well, I have been meeting with some very bigger players this week. And I am tonight.”

“Great! Expand your territory or go meet them at the docks. See if I care.” Shit you almost immediately thought, you had not meant that, you immediately stepped back and looked down. “I I...I...” You tried to find the right words, you really did care. But you were very hurt and angry. You didn’t know how to tell him.

He slammed a hand on the mirror beside you, making you jump. “What did you fucking just say to me?”

“Roman, do you know how many times I felt like you could care less about me? Tonight, I wanted to feel needed, I wanted to be with some friends and be silly.” You pleaded, your emotions speaking. Your eyes met his, you shrank against the cool of the mirror as you saw blue flames.

“Fine go to those fucking friends who enjoy the perks of being with you or the ones I allow them to have.” He growled, leaning in you could feel his breath once again. His anger came off him in waves.

You had never been this mouthy. You felt sick with worry. “Romy,” You tried to soften things. Had you finally pushed Roman too far, you almost began to cry right there.

“Maybe you should take those ungrateful jerks to another club. I don’t know if I want them taking a table up in my establishment.”

You looked away, then pleading with your eyes, you met his fiery ones. Did he want you to leave too, you wondered. Your stomach was churning and before you knew what you were saying, everything you had been bottling up just came out. “I’ve grown tired of all the kisses on the cheek or the hand shakes while I sit there and you ignore me.” You cried.

“I am not ignoring you. It takes everything in me to not focus on you.” He rasped. “I only want my lips on you, damn it.”

“Certainly doesn’t feel like that to me.” Taking a breath, not sure if it would make you sick, but you spat the rest out. “Learn to not have me there tonight.” You finally said it so he wouldn’t have to. And you walked away.

“I will.” He barked. “Get out of my sight.”

You walked away but blinking you looked back, had he really just said that. Tears filled your eyes. You hurt so bad, you wanted to run to him, tell him how hurt you were; to say you were sorry. How you desperately wanted him to wrap you in his arms but he was gone.

You went up to the bar, you held up two fingers. “Two shots, Charlie. Please.” You ordered.

“Of what?”

“Roman’s favorite.” You desperately wanted to feel close to him.

He smiled. “Coming up.” Soon, he slid them in front of you.

You almost coughed up the first shot but you swallowed it down. You would never understand how he drank it. The second shot, was smoother and cut some of the ill feelings that churned in your stomach.

After, some looks from your friends which you ignored; you sat with them. Sipping at your drink that had been waiting for you, you tried to loose yourself into the conversations. You wrung your hands under the table. You debated, whether you should suggest leaving. But how could you do that.

“Is there any room for this club owner?” He chuckled. “Or should we grab a table in the VIP lounge?”

You looked up startled, there was Roman smiling that easy smile that always made you melt. At that moment, you felt like you could crumble right there. Some of your friends chuckled.

“Of course there’s room. Let, Y/N sit next to her man.” One said, you slid in so he could come to sit beside you.

A hush, came over the table as he sat down beside you, he placed his martini close to your empty glass. He gestured to the air and a waitress appeared.

His fingers, gently grazed your glass. He rose his eyebrows as he looked at you. “Want another?”

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

He smiled broadly as he looked at your friends. “You heard her. And bring us a bottle of champagne along with some glasses.”

Some of your friends tried to politely discourage him but you already knew that it would be at the table shortly.

“Don’t be silly. We all deserve something special.” He smiled broadly.

Conversations picked up once, it even flowed. You rested your hand on your thigh, so it would not shake. You kept on trying to catch Roman’s eye yet you noticed that he avoided it. Right as you thought, you could cry all over again you felt as Roman’s gloved hand slide over yours. He squeezed your hand, it made you relax.

******

The rest of the night had gone well. Everyone seemed happy. As you all soon stood and chatted before saying night, Roman had wrapped an arm around your middle. He held up his martini glass. “It has been great spending tonight with all of you.” He smiled broadly at your friends and finished his good bye to your friends before he nuzzled you.

“Meet me at the elevator.” Roman hissed in your ear, before pressing a kiss on your cheek. You shivered but nodded.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @professionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-susperia @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @generallj

[scribble-blog]

Soulmate AU part 13!!

I meant to update yesterday, but between a long school/work day and going out with friends afterwards for karaoke, it didn’t quite happen. Oops! I’m gonna try to get everything edited in advance so updates hopefully get a little smoother for me to roll out. Thanks for reading!

First • Previous • Here • Next

“So, we’re all agreed?” Tim demanded. “I’ll go in with Robin, play a little good cop, bad cop with them. And once we’ve actually figured out how bad the problem is and what we’d actually be able to do to help, Bats can swoop in and offer a hand.”

“I do not see why we had to plan that,” Damian practically yawned. “It’s what we would have all done anyway if left to our personal inclinations.”

“And why aren’t I in the plan?” Dick asked, pouting like the overgrown child Damian knew him to be. “I can play good cop just as easily! Or swoop in after! I can swoop!”

“Swooping is... bad.” Tim muttered to himself. “I left you out of the plan, Dick, because while we play diplomats to a bunch of teenagers who’ve been saving a whole city near daily for four years without help or acknowledgement, crime in Gotham doesn’t actually stop. You and Jason and Cass are on actual patrol.”

Cass wasn’t there, Damian knew. She’d already left after the first time Drake had gone over his “plan” to start on her actual patrol. Todd looked seconds from taking the same exit, except that he’d wanted to be there too.

“Still say I should be the bad cop,” he grumbled, and Damian kicked the foot he had sticking out from his slump on the chair. He got a half hearted retaliatory kick attempt, which was enough to know that Todd wasn’t truly upset at any of them, just upset that he wasn’t getting to meet the new French heroes. “Kid can go hunt down some more scumbags and sleazeballs. Might even catch Riddler or someone at something tonight. I wanna scare the kids.”

“I told you, you’re too much of an asshole to expose to children without warning. Also, they’re still teenagers. It makes sense to send the two youngest of us in to talk to them.”

“And Riddler’s still locked up,” Father said from his spot, far enough away from them that he could maintain the illusion of not dealing with their squabbling but close enough to listen and chime in. “Try again.”

“Hmm. Harley, taking a swing at Scarecrow for shooting Ivy.” Todd cracked an eye in that direction.

“I’d let her,” Damian groused quietly to himself.

“Speaking of Ivy,” Father’s voice cut through the chatter. “Damian. Mind explaining what you were doing when you got caught up in the attack today?”

Damn.

Damian had honestly let himself hope that the meeting with the new heroes would eclipse what had happened earlier that day.

“I was touring the Gardens,” he said, not dishonestly. “I don’t see why it matters.”

“No, what matters is the fact that you have a girlfriend, and you didn’t tell me,” Dick sighed dramatically. “Where did I go wrong, Bruce?”

“You didn’t actually raise me.” Damian pointed out. “At best, you’ve been a morally guiding nuisance.”

“Jiminy Cricket?” Tim asked, grinning widely.

“Where did you go wrong, Bruce?” Dick corrected, sending a glare towards Tim.

“If you don’t wanna tell us why you were practically hanging off of the poor girl’s every word, you don’t have to,” Todd grinned. “But just remember that what we can imagine is probably far worse than what was actually going on.”

Damian suppressed the urge to groan. He met Drake’s eyes. Surprisingly sympathetic, but then he also hadn’t shared his soulmark with their family to Damian’s knowledge.

“Marinette,” he stressed her name very carefully, with the air of someone who entirely regretted just about everything that had led them to this part of their life, “is my soulmate.”

There was a moment of silence before all hell seemed to break loose.

“A soulmate? And you never told me!?” Dick practically wailed.

“Perhaps I should have pressed the issue more when the marks first appeared.” Bruce murmured.

“There’s no way that sweet girl was your soulmate, Demonspawn.” Todd, crass as ever, objected.

“I think you guys are forgetting that Marinette literally had me on the ground and pinned within the first second of our interaction.” Drake reminded them. “And based on that, I’m guessing she wasn’t lying when she told Gordon she took down two of the goons that came after them.”

“She definitely wasn’t,” Damian found himself saying almost wistfully. He’d found himself at several points that afternoon and evening replaying the memory in his head of Marinette bringing down the idiot who’d tried to bring them to Scarecrow. “Her form needs work, but then not everyone has had the opportunity to train to our standards. I’ll be amending it.”

He found himself met with several frankly insultingly bewildered looks. With a sniff he flattened his expression and did his best to look down on them even from his position as the not quite shortest.

“Oh my god,” Todd said. “She’s actually your soulmate?”

“Cut it out, Jason,” Drake snapped before Damian could. “Or should I say something about your soulmate?”

Damian watched as Todd scoffed but settled down, eyes narrowed at their brother. Dick’s eyes flicked rapidly between Damian and Tim, baffled concern evident. “Did I wake up in an alternate dimension? Like- suddenly Paris has heroes and villains for years that we’ve never heard of, Damian met his soulmate, Tim is defending him, and Damian is letting him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Damian said, meeting Tim’s eyes and watching them light up as he said, “Tim and I have always been perfectly friendly.”

“Honestly, Dick,” Tim took it one step further, slinging an arm over Damian’s shoulders. “I know you were kind of bitter that he latched on to me when you were supposed to be the Batman to his Robin while Bruce was gone, but there’s no need to act out like this.” Damian, against all of his instincts to shove the intruder into his personal space away, leaned into the side hug, and even wrapped his arm around Tim’s waist to complete the picture of easy familiarity.

“You’re not going to trick me into actually checking if we’re in an alternate dimension,” Dick said, and Damian struggled not to grin as Todd sat up a bit straighter.

“And what, next you’re gonna say today isn’t actually Cass’ birthday? You know Alfred’s got the whole cake and everything waiting for after patrol.”

“It’s not-“ Dick panicked, grabbing his phone, checking his calendar. Tim gripped Damian’s shoulder just a bit tighter as he struggled not to break, and Todd’s eyes were narrow and gleeful.

Dick looked up, accusatory and betrayed. All three of them cracked.

“Oh my god,” Todd laughed, as Tim broke down nearly to tears beside him. Damian couldn’t stop himself from laughing too, at the look on Dick’s face. “‘I’m not gonna check-‘ Dick, it only took one more sentence!”

“It wouldn’t have worked if you’d said anyone but Cass,” Dick whined, throwing his grappling hook at them. Jason caught it easily, tossing it back before Dick could prepare for it, catching him in the stomach.

“If you’re all quite done,” Father stood finally. “Damian, make sure you invite Marinette around to dinner tomorrow. I’m sure we’re all equally anxious to meet her. For now, let’s go, before we miss the meeting time we set up.”

“Yes, Bruce,” came the mumbles from his brothers, as Damian nodded his acquiescence.

For now, they’d deal with the Parisian heroes and their crisis overseas. Once that was settled, hopefully Drake could spend some time looking into the oddities in his soulmate bond.

And dinner be damned, he’d try to keep Marinette from meeting these idiots for as long as he could.

TAGLIST:

@the-fusionist @rebecarojas07 @lowandco @kotaleartzu @resignedcatservant @alenee13 @mystery-5-5 @ladybug-182 @actual-disaster-human @loysydark @rumbelle18 @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @athena452 @mochegato @ash-amg @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thestressmademedoit @sassakitty @doriebell @toodaloo-kangaroo @myazael @theatreandcomicfreak @mer-mel @dahjokester @northernbluetongue @abrx2002 @area51qt @jessigurl-design @renscorpio @cici-schnee @multplelifes @redscarlet95 @razzledazzle247 @rosep16 @emotionalsupportginger @kceedraws @tired-butterfly @kuroko26 @catthhay @moonystars14 @shamefullove @shreky-boi @imanerddealwith @chaosace @captainmac6 @purple-people-eaters-productions @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-pale-blonde-person @bigpicklebananatree

[willadisastercry]

Pidge is less okay than everyone thought... and that’s okay

Tw: detailed description of a panic attack, unintentional self harm (not intense or graphic)

Shiro and Lance are the only one’s who seem to be able to help when Pidge has an anxiety attack, they’re also the only people who know she even actively has them. But Pidge has overworked herself all week, not getting enough sleep or even bothering to eat much before today’s mission. So when she faces a hitch in an attempt to acquire possibly crucial intel that could put her family back together, she can’t steal her nerves quick enough before this one comes on and nothing seems to be working to calm her down this time.

“Really good work out there today, guys. Relax and rest a bit before we regroup later to discuss.”

Pidge had barely noticed Shiro was even speaking, too enthralled in the prospect of what could possibly be contained on the drive she’d secured with galra intel from today’s mission.

“Awh, come onnn Shiro. Can’t we just call it a night? I’m so wiped.”

Flight plans, prisoner logs, cargo shipment details, the possibilities were really endless and anything could get her one step closer to finding her father and brother. She couldn’t get complacent now.

“Would you rather wake up early tomorrow morning—“

“NO! No, forget I asked. Ugh,” Lance urged before huffing in frustration as he sprawled himself across the couch in the common room, everyone else already following suit and nearly entirely atop of one another.

They all seemed content to remain like that, but Pidge felt like there were bugs crawling under her skin. She didn’t want to relax, she didn’t know if she could.

Her heart pumped erratically in her chest as she felt more and more useless sitting on a couch relaxing when she could be analyzing the data that just might help her find her family.

“Anyone else have—“

“I’m going to go ‘relax’ in my lab,” Pidge announced resolutely.

“Uh, Pidge, you know the whole point of relaxing is ya know, not doing anything, right?”Hunk asked as Keith shifted to allow him to release her from under the weight of his arm where it fell in their semi dog pile onto the couch.

“I need to start my diagnostics on the encrypted files I retrieved before they corrupt,” Pidge’s words were pointed and direct.

“Lone galra cruisers don’t usually have tech guys, it’ll take some time to relay the news of the attack over to hq and even more time for them to properly investigate and figure out what we got away with... you’ve got plenty of time Pidge—“

“Well, we weren’t exactly stealthy and they could have failsafes already initiated ready to go at any moment! It’s crucial that I review and decrypt as much as I can before all of our work goes to hell—“

“I thought we were sorta clean with it...” Keith muttered deep in thought as he reviewed their performance over in his head.

“Woah, slow down,” Lance interjected everyone, “if you’re still mad at me about not catching that last sentry before you were done cleaning out all of the files from the server then, I get that, but you don’t need to be so—“

“Guys, guys! We’ll discuss it later, for now everyone’s only job is to chill out, and Pidge, you can go work in your lab as long as you promise to come to the meeting later with a cooler head, deal?”

“Yeah, whatever. Deal,” she gruffed before taking off towards Green’s hangar to retrieve the usb from today’s mission.

“Jeez,” Hunk sighed as he fixed his headband back into place from where it had slipped down.

“And I thought I could be hot-headed...” Keith mused almost in awe but also worry because why was Pidge this worked up over some data that may or may not even be helpful?

“I was still down from a blast during hand to hand with the second wave of sentries...” Lance stared at the floor, his face full of hurt as he recalled his moment of error in battle that he was certain causing Pidge’s mood.

“...I didn’t see the last one come up and when I did he’d already blasted the control panel to shit.”

“It’s not your fault Lance, the mission couldn’t have gone smoother. We did what we set out to and that’s all we can focus on for now, let’s just give her some space to cool off and wait for the meeting to dole the rest out.”

The boys agreed and stayed in the common room for several more minutes talking about how weird Pidge was being before finally heading off to get cleaned up.

Pidge wished she could get washed up, but she had so much work left to do. She was typing away furiously as she produced line of code after code, determined to not let up before she was done.

Her legs pumped restlessly against the floor while she worked, her entire body practically vibrating with nervous energy.

She just needed to configure a base for her decryption software according to the firewalls in this particular ship’s files so she could finally let it run and—fuck.

The altean computer screen wavered and then sputtered as it began rebooting.

“Nononono, no, NO! You’ve got to be kidding me...”

She could throw up.

The processor had overheated before she could get the last few lines of code typed to initialize her software which meant when it cooled off she would have to start from the beginning and by then... by then there could be nothing left to decrypt.

Panic swelled in her chest, the heat spreading as quickly as it appeared.

This could have been what leads her to her father, to her brother. And if she failed she could be what breaks her family... for good.

She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the strain in her chest brought her out of her staring competition with the blaring red across the screen in front of her.

Inhaling sharply, she clutched her chest. The initial breath hurt and so she breathed again to see if it would hurt again, and it did.

Shit, why does it hurt? Slower. Breathe slower.

But she couldn’t. She took another. And then another. And then she was breathing so fast none of her heaves seemed to alleviate the tightness that wrapped around her lungs and crawled up into her throat.

“Aha, fuck.”

The panic came on so quickly it almost made her nauseous.

The harder she tried to return her breathing to normal the deeper she seemed to plunge. But she still had work to do. And she had to be cooled off for the meeting or Shiro wouldn’t let her return to her lab.

She needed to, in her own words, calm the fuck down.

She’d done it before, managed to bring herself down from this point. But that was with Lance by her side to gently guide her breathing to something steadier and with Shiro holding her so tightly it was hard to find a good enough reason to remain so tightly wound.

And she was just very rude to both of them so she couldn’t ask for their help after that. Pidge had never done it by herself before, but she would have to at least try to now.

So she closed her eyes and forced herself to take in a large enough breath so she could count her inhale, hold it, and then exhale, but even doing that had hurt and seemed to just make deepen the ache.

“No... why... why isn’t it... working?!”

Her chest felt too heavy to do it, too tight and she couldn’t seem to manage the counts without making it worse. Her lungs would tighten up and ache before she reached the end of the time she was supposed to hold her breath which caused her exhale to be several rapid inhales instead.

Oh god.

She pushed herself away from her desk, in the process pulling the keyboard out as well as knocking over a pile of electronics that fell to the floor with a clank that jarred her now insanely sensitive ears.

There was too much input. Too many things making it impossible to do this on her own.

She scrambled to shut the radio off, but her eyes were blurry with tears and she couldn’t find the correct buttons, increasing the volume and switching it to a station of static instead.

She let out a scream she didn’t know she was holding back as she sank to her knees, clamping hands over her ears to try and block out all the noise that was now overloading her senses.

It was like everything had been dialed to 10.

The whirring of the computer processor as it worked, the cool air being pushed into the room from a vent over her head, the steady beeps and ticks of several different machines and... and the door of the lab opening followed by footsteps.

“Pidge?”

Keith.

“Pidge, hey... what happened?”

His voice was so loud.

“What’s wro—“

“Shh,” she begged, voice barely a whisper over her ragged breathing.

“Okay, okay,” he placated as he closed the distance between them.

“I can be quieter... and maybe if I turn this off, how’s that? Better?”

She nodded, removing her hands from her ears once he’d gotten the radio off. She hadn’t noticed when she’d started shaking but her hands were trembling so badly she had to hold them to keep them remotely still.

“I’m gonna sit with you, is that okay? Alright, do you think you can tell me what’s happening right now?”

She thought about it for a second and concluded that even she didn’t know.

She’d had anxiety attacks before, Shiro had been the first to name it for what it was. They were mostly inattentive ones where she’d dissociate, sometimes she would get worked up and hyperventilate, but it was only ever fleeting, short, over in a couple minutes. And other than that she’d always had some sort of an answer to nearly everything anxiety related. Except now.

Because right now she did not know what was happening, only that even her own heart pumping was so loud it made her want to disappear into a blissful cloud of nothing. She didn’t like not knowing what this was and why she was feeling it, and that realization seemed to break what little progress she had made in containing it.

“Wait no, it’s okay, you’re okay!”

But she wasn’t. She was so far from okay.

“Pidge, you’re safe. You just need to breathe.”

She knew that already and she’s been trying, but the more she tried and failed the more she became aware that there was nothing she could do on her own to stop it.

“This happens to me too sometimes, I know it seems impossible but you can do it. We can do it together, yeah? Okay, I need you to take a really deep breath for me, I’ll go first.”

And he did. He inhaled audibly and urged her to follow. And she tried, but her chest hitched and she choked on the air she tried to bring in.

Keith wanted to soothe her and placed his hand on her arm but she jolted so violently at the touch that he tore his hand away as if he was afraid he’d burned her. She met him with desperate eyes, sincere with frustration and impatience.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m helping much.... do you want me to get someone else? Hunk? Or maybe—“

“Sh-Shiro or Lance, p-please...”

Her hands were in fists on her lap and they were beginning to go numb, a tingle spreading from her wrists up to her shoulders and a similar one moving up her legs. She hated when that happened.

She hated feeling so much emotion when her body felt so stuck, so not there. Because she was there and she was struggling and now was not the time to go ghost on herself.

“I can’t-I can’t stop it, I just want it... to stop.”

“This feeling isn’t permanent, it’s just your body reacting—it’ll stop,” he moved his hand from the floor to her knee and she flinched again but let it remain there.

“I’m going to be right back with someone, is that okay? You’ll be alone for only a minute...”

She nodded through a strangled sob. Her mouth was starting to go dry and so she didn’t feel much like talking anymore.

Keith squeezed her bouncing knee before taking off in a dead sprint. Pidge surrendered to the heaviness of her eyelids and closed them for a moment as she vaguely wondered how he would describe the predicament to their friends and how exactly he’d realized something was awry at all, relishing in the prospect of focusing on something other than her own panic for a moment.

But the relief didn’t last long because when she pried her eyes open to see if someone, anyone was back yet, the world tilted.

She watched in horror as objects seemed to wane out of focus while others seem pulled into hyper detail, the floor stretching out in front of her in an unrelenting wave of movement, the little dots of static that you usually see when you blur your vision or just before you pass out were now moving so quickly she could cry. Correction: she was already crying, but she couldn’t stop full on hysterics now.

She didn’t know when she had scooted herself against the leg of the desk but was thankful for the support, thankful for something to remind her that she was on the ground, in her lab, in... space.

The way her chest contracted as her mind continued to do its own whirring, continued to think about all of the things she couldn’t possibly control but felt compelled to try to caused her a whole new type of distress.

It was too much.

She squirmed as she tried to get away from herself, from this feeling, throwing her head back hard enough to hurt as she wailed, but it didn’t because she couldn’t feel anything. It was like her entire body had shut off an entire sense and the others were thrown completely out of wack because of it.

And she didn’t know why she was crying exactly, there seemed to be too many reasons and not any all at once, but she gathered that it was one of those instances where now that she’d started it was going to be really hard to stop.

Those were really the only circumstances under which she cried, especially now that she was in space with a ship full of teenage-ish males and two very parent-like aliens, after going so long without crying at all only to lose it over absolutely nothing and somehow end up crying about everything.

But this was sort of different. Because she felt so much more wrong than just an overdue cry.

She didn’t have much more time to deliberate this because there were voices pulling her out of her daze. Shiro was knelt in front of her and Keith was back.

“There you are.”

Shiro moved one hand to her shoulder and she shrunk under it, her eyes wild and fearful as she could feel the weight of it, but nothing more.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me,” he said as he moved to sit beside her against the drawers of the desk.

“Keith said you were getting really overwhelmed, so I’m here if you want—oh!” Pidge had rushed forward to bury her head in Shiro’s chest and his arms closed around her securely.

“I’ve got you, i’ve got you...” he gushed as he held her trembling frame, the tears still flowing freely and her chest still struggling under the immense pressure that had built in it.

She tried to ignore how trapped she felt, yearning for the usual ease that his tight embrace brought instead of this suffocating strain. She felt another scream bubble at the back of her throat as she let the weight of his arms take her somewhere almost worse, somewhere she wasn’t just struggling to breathe anymore, but now felt like she had absolutely no air to even try.

“Pidge?! Hey, talk to me, where you at?”

She pulled away from Shiro, his voice piercing her ears like a small explosion. He immediately retracted and searched her face for an explanation but it was just filled with fear as she drew her knees up to her chest, clutched her hands over her ears and tried not to give into the sobs until she had enough air to support such heavy crying.

But it soon became blatantly clear that she couldn’t get enough air in when her face had gone slack and her sobs had all but stopped except for the croak of her tired throat as she desperately tried to pull in air, the strong arms around her releasing completely now, more hands finding her back and tapping her shoulder.

“Pidge, you need to take a breath, the air is there. You’re—damnit it, you’re going to pass out if you don’t try. Is Lance on his way over? Okay, can you go get water and a...”

The rest was lost on her as black continued to impede her vision, Shiro’s usually warm and calming voice now just as sharp as the sting in her lungs and cut with worry. Tears still flowed down her cheeks to meet under her chin and continue down her neck, but they came silently, the hollow rasp from her throat as she struggled through irregular and rapid breaths barely audible anymore. She almost wished that she would just pass out already, let her body’s self preservation instincts break the unbearable cycle of panic it tortured her with.

But Shiro wouldn’t let her, he was just about ready to administer rescue breaths with how pale she had gotten before Lance arrived.

“Shit, Pidge, what the hell? You usually do so well with the breathing excercise I showed you... but it’s okay, this happens.”

Lance settled himself next to Pidge on the other side of Shiro and began to work one of her fists open, her hand was now lax for the most part, so it wasn’t hard and did the same with the other before putting his hand on her back while the other corded through her hair.

“I’m going to stretch your arm out so you can— damnit you’re really tensed up, do you think you can relax your arm a bit?” He questioned tenderly as he began gently easing her arm away from her chest, holding her hand while rubbing at the clenched up muscles as they released their tension.

“Yeah, just like that... you’re doing so good,” he murmured as he took her shaking hand up to his chest and pressed her pliant fingers down. After a minute she looked around lazily, her body still racked with trembling sobs before soft fingers were tipping her chin to meet a warm smile mouthing ‘hey’.

Shiro watched in a mix of awe and confusion as Lance handled Pidge’s crisis, ignoring the hesitation in his eyes because his voice was so steady and his so hands sure that it didn’t matter that he didn’t know in the slightest of what he was doing. He was just being him, this was his nature, to be able to read someone so well and provide them with such tenderness.

“Want to try and listen to how I breathe?”

She parted her lips as if to speak but a particularly pointed sob prevented it, Lance seemed to get the point though and shifted his legs around.

“I’ll let you settle in and you tell me when you’re ready for me to return the hug...”

Lance tugged on her other sleeve and guided into a cautionary embrace, his touch light and his hands remaining on her arms as she found the spot on his chest where she could practically hear his heart moving against his ribs, but... not quite.

Everything sounded muffled now, like she was under water but wasn’t prepared to take a deep enough breath before being shoved beneath the surface.

Except she was comepltely aware that she wasn’t actually under water. Like it was all a cruel joke where she was tortured while she watched everyone else around her breathe easily. Her mind still able to rationalize that even though she felt like she was, she wasn’t actually dying.

But Lance wasn’t flaunting the fact that he could breathe, he was trying to remind her how she could too. He squeezed her arms each time her hands tightened around the material of his sweatshirt, reminding her that she should be thinking about how his chest was working, pushing all the other junk in her mind away for now.

“Feel how my voice carries when I talk... how controlled each breath is... think about what you can feel and hear and touch... they’re things you can perceive... things you can control, don’t focus on what you can’t...”

Okay, he’s right. I can do that. Try to do that.

She shuddered through a round of hitches in her sobbing and pressed her face further into Lance’s chest, not even having the mind to worry about how wet it was getting with her tears.

Think about what you can feel...

She could feel the thumping of his heart even if she wasn’t quite hearing it at that moment, her mind making up the difference and leading her to imagine the sound it must be making each time it does... and how the air being pushed out through his nose must be whistling... and how the constant reverberations must mean he was... humming.

But then it stopped as he took a big breath and let Pidge rise with his chest as it expanded, sure to let it out just as steadily.

Her chest seemed to loosen then, her body rushing to take in as much air as it could before the panic spiked again.

“I’m going to hug back now, you let me know if you—oh, okay, I’m here, Shiro’s here too. You’re okay,” he ran his hands through her hair and pressed her tightly to his chest, his legs coming up to plant his feet firmly on either side of her as he began slowly rocking them back and forth.

It felt nice. He moved them carefully, slow enough that she could have been asleep in his arms and she wouldn’t have been disturbed, but also so securely that her mind couldn’t disappear the presence of his hands bracing her back and circling through her hair.

But the lull didn’t last long.

It wasn’t his fault, this is just how it went. When she got bad like this, the panic came and went in waves. If her body still had nervous energy left, it didn’t matter how much she managed to calm down, she would have to start from square one until there was nothing left in her to continue.

No!

Shiro was just as surprised as Lance when her voice cracked, the soothing sounds she was murmuring to herself as she worked her breaths closer and closer to normal broken by a wail.

Fuck!

Fuck you, fuck this, fuck—everything.

“-dge? Pidge?!”

“We’re still here, you’re still alright.”

“Give me a sec... there ya go, better?”

He’d turned her around so that her back was against his stomach and then held his hand up in front of her to show her before he closed it and lowered it to her chest, she knew what he was going to do and melted into him further as he began to rub gentle but firm circles over her sternum.

“Ahh... ahah, f-fuck,” she sobbed beneath him, she shuddered under the touch, her hands searching for something else, anything else to ground her and stumbling upon Shiro’s on one side and her thigh on the other.

She squeezed tight on both as she fought desperately not to slip again, feeling the way her body wanted to become light again.

Nope, we are just not doing that shit again.

She was so mentally done with this, but her body seemed to be losing energy too. She could feel it tiring, losing the warewithal to continue its draining overreaction. Turns out not having rested at all after their mission just to drop like this was a blessing in way, she was scared of how long she’d have been able to go if she wasn’t already worn out.

She forced her eyes shut and focused on Lance’s fingers, his knuckles pressing hard, but not hard enough to hurt. She’d almost wish he was. The rhythmic motion was heavenly because she couldnt ignore it as he kept the pressure there above her heart.

She gasped when she started coming back to herself, feeling the sudden shift when she seemed to be given the reigns back on her own breathing, sucking in huge gulps when she finally could control it.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good... listen to how I do it.”

Shiro was massaging the residual tremors out of her hand as he held it, the additional release of tension aiding in grounding her further.

She was faintly aware of the lab door opening but was too focused on not losing her pace, her breaths still manual and unsteady but a hell of a lot better than before.

“Oh...” it was Keith, he sounded worried.

She was confused for a moment before a hand was on her thigh.

“Hey,” Lance’s hand was at her wrist now. “Oh Pidge, don’t-don’t do that.”

Keith was trying to lift her fingers up but stopped when he saw that pearls of blood were starting to form beneath them and didn’t want his struggle with her to make it worse.

“Crap.”

“Pidge let—Pidge you gotta let go.”

The hurt in Lance’s voice stung. She wasn’t even aware she’d been doing that, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the iron grip, this peace was so tenuous and she couldn’t afford fucking it up.

When she didn’t respond Lance exchanged a knowing look with Keith who moved his hand under the palm of hers before both boys wrenched her hand up, surpressing how sharply he breathed when he saw the trail of red with sheaths of skin uprooted and purple crescents dotted about.

They sort of just stared, lost for a second, neither of them quite sure how to proceed.

“I got it,” Shiro offered as he took the offending hand from them, Pidge’s gaze still somewhere else.

There was a moment of silence before anyone talked or moved again.

“Pidge, hey. Keith brought water for when you feel up to it.”

Keith was kneeling next to them now, pouring cold water onto a rag and wringing it out before showing it to Lance.

“He’s got something cold to put on your face, maybe over your eyes? They must hurt...”

She blinked absently, silent tears making their way down her cheeks.

“This should help, ready?”

It took a second but she finally nodded and then the rag was descending on her swollen and bloodshot eyes. She jumped at first but he continued and once it was fully laid on it was bliss. The coolness calmed the angry puffiness and the pressure kept new tears from falling.

“I’m... gonna put something on your leg. It might sting, but it’s also cold so it’ll feel nice,” Keith said wiping up the small drops of blood that escaped the scratch wounds before pressing whatever it was down on top for a beat.

They weren’t bleeding much, the skin torn literally just enough to bleed. She also couldn’t really feel it, the area just felt numb and stiff. She hadn’t meant to draw blood, she just needed something that felt real to bring her back.

A spark of shame lit deep in her gut as realization dawned on her, she had hurt herself. Sure it was subconscious, but she still did, literally with Lance and Shiro right there trying to help. But she pushed those thoughts away.

She was far from perfectly fine, still working through the after shocks and residual anxiousness that followed. She sort of felt sick to her stomach and couldn’t stop swaying her leg back and forth as she lay against Lance, his grip as tight as ever, with Shiro still caging her unsteady hands in his.

Keith had gotten a blanket at some point to drape over her and kept removing the rag to re wet it with the cold water that she didn’t quite trust herself to drink yet.

“How ya feeling?” Lance murmured into her hair.

She hummed in response.

“Gonna take that as better, right?”

She nodded and then grimaced when Keith took the rag away once more and opened her eyes only to realize how much pressure had built behind them.

“What’s up?” Shiro asked when he noticed her face twisting up.

“My head hurts.”

“Hm, Coran has some sort of aspirin equivalent somewhere and... you could lie down, try going to sleep until dinner—oh! Hunk is making your favorite, he figured everyone needs a good meal after today.”

“Sounds nice,” she almost slurred, her head snuggling into the crook of Lance’s arm. She still shook as if she were cold, even with the blanket.

The three of them discussed something for several minutes but she tuned the conversation out, too busy relishing in how she could breathe again, only a small part of her worried about relapsing back into hysteria as the waves of panic returned smaller and smaller.

“Pidge? You awake?” Lance asked, trying not to eat her hair.

“Soooo, we were thinking of having dinner in the common room tonight, we think you should eat something before you turn in and we don’t want you to be alone just yet, also so you can be snuggled at all times... what do ya think?”

She smiled and scrunched her nose up with and enthusiastic ‘sure’.

“How bout I give you a lift?” Shiro smirked fondly as he squatted down and motioned for her to hop on his back.

They all had a good laugh at that, Keith and Lance joking about how they’ll never receive the same star treatment.

“I think it’s safe to say the meeting is rescheduled for the morning, sorry Lance!”

“Whateverrrr! The things I do for you, Pidge,” he laughed as they settled in on the couch, Hunk almost suffocating her when he was done serving their meal.

“I’m never letting go, I hope you are aware of that.”

“Not complaining, just... can I have my arm back? Thanks.”

“What was even on the drive—“

“We do not speak of... of that, Princess.”

“Pidge can run her diagnostics again before tomorrow’s meeting and then after that she’s on an electronic hiatus. Also everyone’s going to their rooms at curfew from now on, no exceptions. You people are humans and you need sleep!”

“But Shiro!”

“At curfew? Like at exactly curfew?”

“Yes Keith.”

“Space...“

“Lance. Lance, do not say it.”

“✨Space dad✨ has entered the chat.”

[thedeathdeelers]

Pillow

oof. i’m not sure how this turned into a 2k thing, but anyway

hope you like it 🤗

also available on my AO3

———

(song)titles are impossible

Julie was sat on the black weathered couch in the studio, staring blankly into space.

They had been sat in the studio for hours today trying to come up with a new song name for their latest anthem. She was rather proud of the song - it might even be one of the best ones she’s co-written with Luke yet.

And so, it seemed only fitting that they come up with a song title that truly represented the sheer greatness of their collaborative genius.

(Like I said, she was really proud of this one.)

They had even managed to rope in Reggie and Alex to help this time. Something both boys were deeply regretting right now.

It wasn’t going too great.

“Come on guys! It’s just a song name.” Julie could hear the whining and exasperation all the way from down here. She barely held the urge to roll her eyes, looking up towards her band mate, eyes slightly unfocused from being zoned out for so long.

Alex was sat in his favourite spot in the loft, legs hanging, as his forearms rested against the grainy wood of the railing.

“Just pick the first two or three words that stand out the most from the chorus and call it a day. I was supposed to meet up with Willie half an hour ago.” His lip jutted out in a pout, the way it always did whenever Alex spoke about his boyfriend.

“Alex, I’ve already told you, we want this title to stand out. It’s got to be something different from the rest of our songs - we can’t just “pick words from the chorus”.” She might have repeated that last sentence with a bit more attitude than was required. She was getting tired, sue her.

Another groan, and a soft thump to her right, made her turn her head. Reggie, sat in a very precarious position on the armchair, rubbed at his face.

“Come on Julie, Ray has a very big photo shoot going on right now. He’s been stressing about it all week - I need to be there for emotional support!”

Emotional support ghost floated through Julie’s mind.

Alex snorted. “Reg, he doesn’t even know you exist.”

“It still counts! I help him find things sometimes, makes things run smoother.” He stuck his tongue out at his friend, before he turned back towards Julie.

“Just use something from your dreambox? Maybe you’ll find something in there to inspire you?” He sounded a little too hopeful.

“You think I haven’t tried that already? Luke and I have been trying to think up of a title for days! You guys were literally our last resort.”

She heard a low mumble coming from the loft, something that sounded a lot like “gee thanks.”

With a snort and a sigh, Julie’s head fell back, resting on the couch pillows as her eyes took in the familiar sight of their studio’s ceiling. Why was this so hard? They’ve already done all of the hard work; the lyrics, the melody, the bass and drum and guitar parts. They just needed a title! This was just too frustrating.

She rolled her head to the left, in the direction of the other end of the sofa, hoping her songwriting partner was having better luck than she was.

Instead she found him looking right at her. Just staring. She could say she’s gotten used to having his piercing hazel eyes focused solely on her, but she’d be lying. She felt her cheeks growing a little warmer.

She stared back, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him, but his eyes didn’t waver. His expression taking on a more questioning look.

Feeling self-conscious, her hand automatically reached up to cover whatever it was she assumed was wrong with her face.

“What, what’s wrong? Do I have something on my face? Is something stuck in my hair again?” Julie started picking at random stray hairs, checking for loose dust bunnies and fluff.

But Luke quickly shook his head at her question, only just realising that he was openly staring.

“No, no! Your face is perfect. I mean it’s perfectly fine- I mean you’re fine- you’re good!” He stumbled his way through his sentence, turning slightly pink as he shifted his gaze back to his lap, attempting to focus on his notebook.

Huh.

“Luke had that “I wonder what would happen if-“ look to him.” Belatedly, Julie remembered that her two band mates were still in the room with them.

“He had his what what?”

“You know, whenever he’s thinking of something weird, a random idea popping into his head. He gets all” Reggie motioned to the general area of his face, “and that’s when you know.”

Now Julie was really curious. She turned her head back towards a still pink Luke, about to ask him what he was thinking about, when Alex jumped in before her.

“Okay! Looks like you guys are taking a break so I’m just going to pop out real quick!” And before Julie could even articulate a shout, Alex literally popped out of the studio. She hated that they could do that so easily.

Not even a second later, she heard Reggie disappear as well.

At least Luke had no one to interrupt them now.

Julie shifted, twisting around on the sofa as she brought her knee up onto the seat, tucking her foot under her left leg as it dangled over the front. Leaning back against the armrest, she folded her arms, zeroing in on her lead guitarist.

“So, you going to tell me, or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

Luke’s head snapped up at that, staring at her as his eyebrows disappeared under his beanie.

“Beat it out of me?” His surprise quickly morphed into a smirk. He looked good when he was being cocky.

No Julie, focus.

Rolling her eyes at him, she replied with an off handed “You know what I mean.”

“No, no I really don’t.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not - I’m really interested to know what you meant by that. Didn’t realise you were into violence, Molina.” Another smirk.

“Luke.”

“What?”

“LUKE!”

“Fine, fine! Geez relax. Don’t need to get all grouchy on me.”

“I’m not grouchy!” Julie was finding it hard to keep her temper in check - Luke always had this way of riling her up with just 2-3 well placed words.

“Really?” Luke deadpanned.

She just harrumphed back at him, willing herself to keep her mouth shut long enough to let him speak.

But he stayed quiet, his eyes flirting between her face and something over her shoulder.

She lifted an eyebrow at him, cocking her head to side, urging him to go ahead.

He sighed.

“It’s stupid. Honestly, you’ll think you’ve wasted your breath trying to get me to spill.”

She didn’t react, choosing to simply wait for him to continue.

He threw his hands up in the air.

“Uh! I was just wondering what your hair would feel like to sleep on. There. See? Stupid.”

She could only blink back at him.

One blink. Two. Still nothing.

“What.”

“You know - like what a pillow stuffed with your hair would be like. Soft, or flat or comfy. I figure the curls have enough give to them that it’d be soft enough to hold without fully flattening out.” He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant.

All she could do was stare back at him, completely flabbergasted. This was not what she was expecting. She’s not even sure what she was expecting - but definitely not this.

What.

She sat there all afternoon trying to think up of song titles, and instead of helping he was thinking about what her hair would feel like as a pillow?

Maybe Alex was right. Maybe they really did need a break.

Julie was so busy trying to wrap her head around what Luke had just told her, that she hadn’t noticed him awkwardly fidgeting as he sat there waiting for her to say something.

“So yeah. I told you. Dumb.”

At his words, Julie snapped out of her confused daze, refocusing on the embarrassed ghost in front of her.

He was silly, had weird habits and a definitely questionable thought process, but she loved him as he was.

Making her mind up on the spot, Julie shifted, pushing her body further down the couch until her head rested fully on the arm rest. Even with her legs bent at the knee, her feet were nearly pressed against Luke’s thigh.

She lifted her hand up, holding it out for him to take, but he only just stared at her, utterly confused at the turn of events.

“Come on, you can test out your theory now if you‘d like.” Julie patted her hair as it lay covering the armrest next to her.

She could see that Luke was still lost, not fully grasping what she was telling him. So she sat up, grabbed his hand and pulled him back down with her.

This time he reacted quickly, shaking his head as if to expel any lingering confusion. He moved forwards, laying down next to her. Julie squeezed herself back against the back cushions, as Luke’s head came to rest on top of the overflowing curls that were taking over the armrest.

Julie, already lying on her side and facing Luke, couldn’t help but stare at his profile, his face so close. His eyes were closed, eyelashes so incredibly long, as he wiggled his head left and right, trying to get comfortable. Her lips twitched, he really was taking this seriously.

A few minutes passed before he opened his eyes, shifting until he was on his side, facing Julie.

Julie couldn’t help but wince a little at his sudden movements, feeling a few strands pull at her scalp.

“Sorry!” Luke nearly jumped as he made to get up, trying to move away and avoid pulling at her hair even more. And although it did hurt, Julie wasn’t ready to move on from this ridiculous situation they found themselves in just yet.

“No! No, it’s alright. I just needed to move a few of the shorter strands. Don’t worry.” She put her hand on his arm, pulling him back down, and leaving it there to make sure stayed in his current position.

They remained quiet, both staring, mesmerised and completely taken by each other. This went on for a few minutes longer, until Julie could feel the tension rising. She had to break it before she did something she might (or might not) regret. Clearing her throat, she broke the silence that had taken over the studio.

“So, what’s the verdict?” She kept her voice low, nearly a whisper.

“Hm?”

Hearing him sound dazed, with his eyes, previously fully focused on hers, now shifting towards her lips, made Julie’s heart rate pick up, beating a little faster than it was a few seconds ago.

“You know,” she smiled, trying to control the heat spreading further through her cheeks, “My hair. Is it as comfortable as you imagined it’d be?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” His grin stretched wide, the effect of it taking Julie by surprise - apparently proximity made it more potent. “The perfect pillow. I think my favourite, actually. Not sure how I’ll be able to use the ol’ standard ones anymore from now on.”

His eyes crinkled, shining with so much emotion as his hand came to rest on her cheek, thumb gently tracing the curve of her cheekbone.

Oh.

Could she love this boy anymore than she already did? Apparently she could.

Feeling a little daring, helped by their current position, Julie quirked her lips into a small mischievous smile.

“Well, if you ever feel like you might need a break from the boring standard pillows, all you have to do is ask.” She moved a little closer, his eyes widening as she felt his warm breath on her lips.

“I might just say yes.”

FIN

[thenamesseven]

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Jae getting a bit...Naughty xD

A/N: Hey! New chapter here! I just wanted to ask you all a question, are you guys still interested in this story? Each chapter is getting less and less notes and I feel like it is not interesting anymore, I would like you all to answer sincerely so I know if I should keep updating it or not! Thank you and enjoy the chapter! ^^

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Scoffing, Jaebum kicked a little stone that was on the ground as he walked outside of the building, hands in his pockets and eyes down as thousands of thoughts ran back and forward in his mind. He would have never thought things would turn out to be more difficult than he expected, at the beginning his task seemed to be incredibly easy, one that anybody could have done. You were single, he was fairly attractive and showing interest in you, he had been more than clear when it came to the kind of relationship he wanted to develop between the two of you.

But stupid Yugyeom had to show up and screw everything.

What did he have that he didn’t anyways? Jaebum was older than you, something girls definitely liked. In his opinion, he looked more mature and as a consequence he also looked slightly more attractive. Jaebum also had this kind of bad boy aura, the one people who weren't afraid of breaking the rules had while Yugyeom looked like somebody who could have never broken a plate. Those were the worst kind of guys, it wouldn’t surprise Jaebum if he stabbed you on the back as soon as he got tired of you or as soon as he got what he wanted from you.

Let’s see if he stays around when that project the two of you had was finished. Jaebum was ready to bet all his money on Yugyeom vanishing.

Since he didn’t have any money on him he decided his best option would be walking all the way back to your apartment, it wasn’t too far but it wasn’t close either, walking around would help clear his mind hopefully, maybe that was exactly what he needed. His eyes landed on Youngjae as he looked around, another sigh leaving his lips when he realized how the male discreetly tried avoiding him as soon as he realized Jaebum was by himself. He was going to ignore him, Jaebum wasn’t a huge fan of your neighbor either but he then remembered Yugyeom mentioning him and his plans quickly changed.

“Youngjae!” He called out so he would wait for him, Jaebum increased his pace in order to not make him wait too much, Youngjae already looked uneasy, he didn’t need to make things worse for him “Hey man, already on your way home?” He asked

Youngjae, being the nice person he was, nodded innocently, gesturing to the bus stop “Yeah, I’m already done with classes for today” Both males started walking, pace slow but fast enough to get to their destination in time.

“Mind paying for me? (Y/N) is busy and I don’t have any money right now, I’ll give you the money as soon as we get home” Jaebum asked, perfectly knowing the other wouldn’t say no to him.

“Sure” Youngjae didn’t sound too excited about his new bus partner, not because he didn’t like Jaebum but more because he was lowkey scared of him. “I thought you would stay around with (Y/N) for the entire day?” He asked curiously, glancing at him as they both stopped by the bus stop, hands in their pockets.

“Nah, she can concentrate better without me around” Jaebum forced a confident yet fake smirk on his lips that Youngjae obviously believed, quickly catching the insinuation on the male’s tone, making his cheeks turn slightly pink “But yeah, she and this Yugyeom guy were really busy talking about this upcoming project and I didn’t want to bother them”

“Oh! Yugyeom? I’m glad he managed to get paired up with her for this, he was really looking forward to working with (Y/N)” Youngjae said with a more relaxed smile on his lips.

The bus stopped in front of them and Jaebum took his chance to stay quiet, letting Youngjae walk in first, pay for their tickets and choose seats that would allow the both of them to sit together for the whole ride “Was he? Does he like her or something like that?” Maybe his question had been a bit too direct but honestly? He didn’t know how else to ask.

“I don’t think so?” Youngjae said, sitting right next to the window, looking at Jaebum as he sat down besides him “I mean, Yugyeom is not the kind of guy who goes after somebody that’s already taken” He said trying to reassure Jaebum about it but again, the two of them were bestfriends and he didn’t know if Youngjae’s opinion was completely neutral.

“He better don’t” Jaebum muttered under his breath, leaning back against the seat as he kept his eyes forward “Why is he so excited about being paired up with her though?” 

“I mean, (Y/N) is really good at what she does” Youngjae admitted with a shy smile, which twitched slightly when the other male turned on his seat and looked at him with an arched eyebrow “I-I mean, she sometimes doesn’t use headphones when she works and plays music really loudly” He quickly added, panicking at the thought of Jaebum thinking about him trying to seduce his girlfriend “If some songs that I’ve heard are hers, I can understand why Yugyeom would want to work with her” Youngjae shrugged, dragging his eyes away from his seatmate to focus on the road “Besides she’s really nice and responsible, everybody likes her” 

“Everybody?” 

“(Y/N) is a very likable person, it’s just...Her nature, you know?” 

“So I shouldn’t really worry about the crush my girlfriend used to have on Yugyeom right?” Jaebum asked, making Youngjae chuckle softly. By your reaction earlier he had easily guessed everyone knew about your feelings towards Yugyeom but you were too oblivious to realize just how obvious you were actually being.

“I guess not” Youngjae shrugged “Yugyeom has always kind of known, like, I’ve heard him comment how cute she always acts around him and how flustered she used to become when he was around but Yugs never acted on it, I doubt he will try to date her now that he knows you are her boyfriend”

“So you’re telling me he knew she had a crush on him and never said anything?” Jaebum frowned at the information he had just been given. If he was always so sweet and nice with you, if he had always been interested then why wouldn’t he have asked you out?

You know why? Because he was just leading you on.

Youngjae shrugged, not really wanting to talk bad about his best friend “If he knew, he never told me”

“What an asshole” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he glanced down at the rings in his hands, playing with them when it was time to bring up another subject, something that would surely make him embarrassed but it was time to admit he needed help, Jaebum couldn’t figure this out by his own and getting some advice would definitely help.

“I kind of need your help for something” Jaebum suddenly said, breaking the small silence that had settled down between the two of them. He slightly turned in his bus seat, facing Youngjae and ignoring some of the curious eyes that darted their way when they noticed the change in Jaebum’s tone.

“Me?” Youngjae asked, unable to hide the surprise in his expression. “I thought we...Like….Uh…” He was about to confess how he thought Jaebum hated him but preferred to stay quiet, not willing to screw this sudden friendly behaviour he was showing “What do you need my help for?”

“You know, when I lived abroad our relationship was more…” Jaebum stayed quiet thinking for the right words to describe something that never existed in the first place, a small frown appeared on his forehead, how was he supposed to explain all to Youngjae based on lies? “Passionate?” He asked himself, frown becoming deeper since he didn’t even know what he was exactly trying to explain “But now that I’ve showed up here and we live in the same place it’s all constant arguments and mood swings” He sighed as if he was desperate “Like there are moments when I think she’s going to kiss my soul out of me and then, seconds later, she looks like she’s about to slap me”

Youngjae looked at him dumbfounded, not really believing Jaebum was telling him that kind of information about the relationship he shared with you when the two of them hadn’t even shared a few hours together, hell, Youngjae thought Jaebum hated him this morning.

“What do you think I can do to make things a bit smoother between us?” Jaebum asked when Youngjae simply kept staring at him, shocked and surprised, his silence was honestly making him even more frustrated.

“Uh...What does (Y/N) like? Maybe buy her presents?” Jaebum scoffed obviously not happy with that reply, even when he had not even spent more than seventy two hours with you, he knew you weren’t the type of girl that was easily bought with those materialistic gestures. By the few conversations he had shared with you and the books he had spotted in your room, you were more of a romantic, someone who preferred being guided by feelings and not logic or greed.

You were a complicated one.

“That’s not going to make things better, trust me” He replied sighing, leaning his head back against the bus seat so he could stare at the ceiling. The bus would soon arrive to the apartment’s building and Jaebum was still as clueless as he was when he got out of the cafeteria before.

“What you need is to get back that spark, your relationship has turned dull, comfortable now that the two of you live together and you need to spice things up once again” Jaebum turned around, shocked when he found an old man sitting there. The smile on his face said he wasn’t making fun of him, that he was simply trying to help but Jaebum couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed that somebody else now knew he was incredibly lost when it came to relationships “Trust me young man, it worked with my marriage and I’ve been married for almost fifty five years with my Inhye” 

“Fifty-five?” Jaebum asked surprised, hope resurfacing in his chest “So I just have to spice things up a little and everything will go back to being fine?” He asked, ignoring the way Youngjae started frowning besides him, he obviously disagreed with what the old man was saying but Jaebum knew someone as nice as Youngjae probably didn’t even know what spice up meant.

“Spoil her with attention and passion, show her you love her” Jaebum’s smile twitched when he heard those words, he kept his smile up though, afraid the people surrounding him would be able to see through his façade. Everyone would surely call him a hypocrite for criticizing Yugyeom when he was doing something similar.

Love was something that didn’t exist for Jaebum, it wasn’t in his nature to have those kinds of feelings in him. There was a time when he was human, when he also had stupid crushes like yours on girls that would have never noticed him, he also experienced heartbreaks well enough to know how hurt you would be if you knew why Yugyeom was being so nice and sweet, you were useful for him, you could make things easier in his life and you were silly enough to trust him blindly.

“Thanks for the advice, I’ll definitely do that” Jaebum said, standing up with Youngjae once the bus stopped. The old man reached out to pat his back, nodding and cheering for him enthusiastically while he walked out.

Jaebum still didn’t have a game plan but at least, he had a slight idea of what he would have to do now.

After attending your classes, having a quick lunch in a place nearby campus and working your entire shift in the coffee shop close to your university you were finally standing in front of your apartment’s door. A regular person would be completely happy and relaxed, content now that they could get rid of the uncomfortable clothes they were getting, take a shower and get some dinner before going to bed. You weren’t ordinary and you wouldn’t be able to relax as soon as you walked through that door.

By the soft music you could hear from your side of the door, you knew Jaebum was waiting for you inside. Doing what? You didn’t know but you just hoped he wasn’t in a mood as bad as the one he was in when he walked away during lunch period. You would have contacted him earlier, tried to talk things out to really find out what his problem was but since you didn’t even know if he had a mobile phone you couldn’t call him.

You gasped when you opened the door, surprised to see Jaebum was standing there. You hoped he had heard you coming up the stairs instead of waiting there for the entire afternoon because that would have surely been incredibly tiring. Opening your mouth to greet him, you were instantly silenced when he reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to his body and allowing himself to embrace you with his arms.

What was going on?

“Uhm...Hello?” You said trying to look up at him, voice hesitant as Jaebum only pulled you closer to him. A soft blush appeared on your cheeks when you felt your breasts being squeezed against his hard chest, he was too close for your liking “What did you break?”

“Why would I break something?” He asked, instantly leaning back to look into your eyes 

“I don’t know, being all lovely is what kids do when they’ve done something their mother is going to ground them for”

You couldn’t have known this but your words were pretty insulting for Jaebum’s ego. First you ignore him for some kind of guy that was obviously using you to get good marks and now, after he had gone through the efforts of preparing the romantic dinner that awaited you in the living room, you refer to him as a kid? Out of nowhere like that?

Jaebum spun the two of you around, making your back meet the front door with a soft thud. Like the night the two of you met, he kept his body pressed against yours, not letting you move away. Your hands instantly flew up to his chest, keeping a little and not enough for you space between the both of you.

“J-Jae?” The nickname slipped past your lips in a desperate attempt to get his attention, but the intense gaze in his eyes told you Jaebum was really set on doing whatever he was planning to do and that he wouldn’t back down now that he had you where he wanted

“I’m not a kid (Y/N)” He said quietly, his tone so low and husky that a shiver ran down your spine. He looked so different from the innocent Jaebum you’ve been with this morning, he wasn’t the same person, in fact, he looked like a predator hunting down the prey his been after for too long “And I would strongly advised you to change that attitude because my patience is running thin” His head moved lower, lips brushing against yours in a tempting way, making your heart pound against your chest.

“What are you…?”

Jaebum proceeded to dig his face into your neck, running his nose against the sensitive skin in order to shut you up “I’m saying you’re mine and it’s about time you act like it” He whispered, breath tickling your earlobe as he moved his mouth up, teasing you with each warm breath he took “After all, I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure out what happens to bad girls, mhm?” Your face was absolutely red at this point, flustered was an understatement for how you felt 

“I won’t play your games Jaebum” You warned, trying to sound as serious as you could, attempting to hide the trembling in your words

Jaebum scoffed ignoring you, shaking his head before he gently placed his forehead against yours “Bad girls get punished babygirl” He whispered, his hand snaking up your arm and towards your neck “And you don’t want to tempt me, trust me”

Taglist: @gold--gucciempress​ @harringtonsblackgf​

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

So like, maybe a Yan!Yoshikage Kira who somehow can't bring himself to kill his s/o, so he just keeps them for himself insted?

I’m so sorry for the radio silence, I haven’t really been in the groove to write as of late. I went for the angle of an attempted look of self discovery of his twisted obsession. Uh besides the hand fetish! Anyway I hope I wasn’t rusty with writing this...

Yandere! Yoshikage Kira unable to bring himself to kill his s/o

     It should’ve been a simple task to throw another person’s life away for the possession of their hands. Not once before had he had a single ounce of remorse as his victims mouths opened agape in terror of disintegrating into thin air. Destroying everything except a single piece, akin to cutting an object out of a picture and burning the rest.

 Ending everything was all too easy with Killer Queen, yet he couldn’t will himself to detonate the bomb. Such an ironic thing for a man who wanted to keep his normal life in tact, to lose himself in a person who should’ve been another casualty. Hesitation wasn’t something Kira Yoshikage was very familiar with, if something kept him from sleeping at night he would dispose of that obstacle.

 The blond bit down on his lower lip impulsively, quickly drawing blood from his current state of mind. Your unconscious form lying on his bed, mocking him for his failure into committing another murder. He strode over, after distancing himself temporarily to regain some semblance of composure. The man’s blue eyes immediately fell onto your gorgeous hands. Your fingernails perfectly cut and polished with a clear coat, and skin smoother than velveteen.

  The male recalled seeing these pair of hands of yours stirring a cup of coffee, in one of the cafe’s closer to the heart of Morioh. He had just glanced your way with a small smile on your lips, your eyes firmly concentrated on the hot concoction within your grasp. At the time his immediate interest in your hands was like any other. He just had to get you alone, and promptly finish you off and take what he desired most of your body.

   He had hid himself beyond your peripheral vision, making sure to keep eye contact at a minimum while amongst the crowd. Waiting for an opportunity to pounce and snatch his reward unsuspected. However there was an unexpected bump when one of your high heels snapped, he was unable to approach as a worker rushed to assist you immediately.

  The way you had gasped in that moment had caught him off guard, even distracting him enough from the drivel that spewed out of the employee’s lips. His eyes adverted quickly to your hands, seeing just a few scrapes on your otherwise perfect hands. A flaw on otherwise lavish flesh, but it wasn’t that unsightly.

  You hailed a cab shortly after these events arose, leaving a bitter taste in the serial killer’s mouth. He had no opening to get close to you, it bothered him considerably as he would normally corner a person easily. But it’s not like he could anticipate such an event happening unfortunately.

   There was discomfort swelling beneath his cool demeanor, surely you’d come back around. He was certain of that even with a small hiccup like this one.

 The following few days hit the man hard, as he aimlessly tried to keep his schedule organized as usual. The hands of women around him began picking at the dark desires in his head. Yet he found no motivation to go after any of them, even if they were conveniently by their lonesome. It was strange and frustrating, he couldn’t seem to settle for some reason. He felt as if he was seeking something more luxurious to his tastes. Yet no one he spotted could fit that criteria.

He started comparing their hands to yours he just happened to get a glimpse of. Sure some were moisturized like yours, but their technique wasn’t comparable to yours. Your hands looked different to touch than of those around him. The thoughts of you were becoming invasive to the serial killer. He had to find you and do something about this disturbance that was flowing through his mind. You had thrown out his sense of normalcy even for his darker thoughts.

   The thirty three year old tracked down the cafe you had visited that fateful day for his lunch the following day. However he saw no sign of you within the vicinity. He also did this after work if he could help it, with the additional distance thrown in his search area it practically became a new routine.

  You were the only one that had changed his way of life drastically like this.

The day he did spot you however was a welcome one, he found himself quickly tailing you. Seeking to finally end this tedious game that had tested his own patience.

 On the other side of things, you were content while walking home. After several days of letting your ankle heal after that incident you were happy to return home once again from a long day of work. Your eyes decided to wander, longingly gazing at your surroundings, apartment complexes, and homes alike.

“I’m so happy to be out again, it’s nice to be outside of four walls of my bedroom...” You sighed to yourself wistfully

 A cool breeze hits your face refreshingly, and just for a moment you decide to shut your eyes in bliss.

Only to open them in a panic upon a grip on your shoulder, but the familiar voice of a coworker quickly puts you at ease.

 As if a bitter twist of fate had occurred, there was evident frustration written on Yoshikage Kira’s face. He had thought it would’ve been a good time to strike, but then a woman unfamiliar to himself just happened to step out from another street. He could care less about her in this instance, so he should be able to simply eliminate her quickly before getting to you.

 Yet he found it difficult to approach, he had confidence in Killer Queen but something underlying in his mind was telling him to wait. Conversation, between you and them he would usually not care about. But he was listening more to your end of the conversation. A bag was exchanged from their hands to yours.

 Once separating the blond went on the move, not before doing away with the obstacle that had been your coworker first. As they practically vanish into dust, there’s not a single thought about taking her hands for himself. Something he could easily do and return to a normal life as soon as possible. He didn’t settle for hers however, he refused to for some reason. His issue would only be resolved when he could approach you.

     The sooner he got rid of you, the sooner he wouldn’t have to worry about the image of you, surely. The odd sensations arising in his chest surely would fizzle on their own. It seemed almost too easy to approach you from behind, just one touch and you’d be done for.

   At least that’s how it would typically turn out in theory. 

His stand Killer Queen poises itself to take another life, however not without slight hesitance. As Kira himself thinks of the waste it would be if you were to rot away. There were little options of replacements comparable to you that Kira could easily get away with. This wasn’t quite right to him, it was utter nonsense to his murderous capabilities.     ‘Tch how inconvenient’ He thinks to himself

Killer Queen no longer reaches out to make you into a living bomb, it’s cat like eyes presenting the same expression as its master. 

 A quick witted decision later he decides to interfere with the bag you were currently handling. A small explosion you were unable to hear, incinerated the handles, the bag quickly fell to the ground spilling its contents. You moved quickly to try and keep everything from dispersing until abruptly noticing a man who was fairly close to your proximity.    Your eyes had a little fright in them as the blond leisurely picked up what appeared to be a bottle of hand soap before looking down at your crouched form. 

“Pardon, me I couldn’t help but notice your bag’s handles broke...may I help you?”

  The sheer hesitance written all over your face was to be expected especially with how quickly he had approached you after being so close.    “uhm...sure” You nod ““it would be very kind of you sir”

 His pace is once again composed unlike seconds ago with his hesitance. It was such a strange feeling just being relaxed around you. Still there was an unrelenting fervor to do something, anything really to go back to normalcy.

At least somewhat anyway...

  That was what had lead him to knock you out behind your back. Keeping you against your will right in his own home. 

  All to sort out his turmoil with you as of right now.

 Letting go of your hand, Kira simply stares at you while watching over your body.  “Why do you fascinate me so much....to keep you alive?” He mumbles to himself

  “But I suppose we can both learn why as you start your permanent stay...”

 He taps his fingers softly on the nearby nightstand, looking at the clock.

“For now I best prepare dinner, before I can ponder anything more with you y/n”

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

play along

request: A Matthew tkachuk imagine where you are connor McDavid little sister and are dating Matthew behind his back but leon is helping see him and you get caught

summary: your brother is Connor McDavid, so of course you had to fall for Calgary’s Matthew Tkachuk.

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.8k

note: female reader based on the request, sorry if that annoys anyone

The Battle of Alberta was serious business for the two teams. It was a division rivalry that produced resentment like no other. You had first hand knowledge of just how deep the competition dug, considering your brother was Connor McDavid, captain of the Edmonton Oilers. 

You lived in Calgary, much to your brother’s chagrin. No matter how many times you told him you lived there for work, he insisted he could get you a job in Edmonton in under a week. 

Besides the fact you didn’t want to give your brother the satisfaction of knowing he got you a job, there were other things that kept you in Calgary. Well, another person. 

You had been dating Matthew Tkachuk since just after the start of the season, having met him shortly after he returned to Calgary for preseason. You had wanted to tell Connor about your relationship, but you knew it would only stress him out and he had to focus on being captain. Plus, you really didn’t want to see what would happen on the ice between your brother and your known pest of a boyfriend. 

Still, with an entire hockey team basically acting as your protective older brothers, it was pretty hard to hide a whole relationship from so many people. 

You weren’t sure when Leon got a key to your apartment, exactly, and you were even more unsure of just why he had a key in the first place. Though, if you had to guess, it was because Connor was insistent on someone checking in on you. 

It was supposed to be a nice night in with your boyfriend, he was going to help cook dinner with you—you didn't have high hopes on how much he was actually going to help—and then a movie. 

“Matthew.” You whined, though his name was punctuated with a giggle as he poked at your sides. You had been in the process of washing some veggies for the meal when he had hip-checked you, if only for the purpose of annoying you. 

“I’m sorry that I want attention.” Matt replied easily, handsome grin on his face endearing no matter how shit-eating it was. You rolled your eyes, giving him a quick kiss before returning back to preparing dinner. 

“You’re such a big baby.” You teased. Your words started a back and forth playful argument, resulting with Matt placing you on the counter with him standing between your legs, lips dangerously close to yours. 

Which was why you didn’t hear the door opening and closing. 

“What the fuck?” At the sound of the deep voice, you shrieked and pushed Matt away. He flew comically away from you, as if you actually had the strength to launch him halfway across the kitchen. 

“Leon? What the hell are you doing here?” You questioned, spotting your brother’s teammate standing in your living room. Leon, for as calm and collected he usually was, his jaw was dropped and he was looking between you and Matt like he didn’t actually believe what he was saying. 

“Uh, your brother asked me to stop in and check on you since he had to stay late at the rink.” Leon explained and you nodded, not sure how to navigate the awkward situation. You were perfectly content with avoiding the elephant in the room, which took the shape of your just as flustered boyfriend who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Still, you should have known with both teams being in Calgary for the game tomorrow you couldn’t be so lucky. “What’s he doing here.”

“Leon.” You chastised. You knew that he didn't exactly get along with Matt, but you had hoped that it wouldn’t extend off the ice. Matt moved back towards you, leaning against the counter next to you—a few inches separating you that wouldn't be there if Leon wasn't standing in your kitchen. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“What!” You winced at the volume of his voice, having somewhat expecting this reaction from him. Though, you had assumed you would have the support of Connor before you had to break the news to Leon. “Since when? Does Connor know?”

“Uhm, a few months? And no, he doesn't. Please don't tell him before I can.” You begged, putting on your best puppy-dog eyes. 

“You want me to play along with this?” Leon asked, clearly skeptical. You nodded quickly and he sighed in defeat. You were practically his sibling just as much as you were Connor’s, the both of them having a hard time saying no to you. With a little more convincing on your part, Leon had left your apartment with the promise to keep your secret. The only downfall was that you had to promise to tell him tomorrow. 

You weren't sure how you were going to tell your brother you had been in a relationship for the better part of the season without telling him. Not to mention that relationship was with Matthew Tkachuk, known nuisance on his rival team. 

You turned to Matt, you had been suspiciously quiet for most of the time Leon was in your apartment, but now that he had left, Matt was grinning mischievously at you. You rolled your eyes at him, opening your arms and he returned to his original position between your legs as you wrapped him in a hug. 

“You’re too much trouble, Tkachuk.”

The next day you were stressed about having to tell your brother about dating Matt, so stressed in fact, that before you even knew it, you were sitting in the stands. Usually, you’d be in the better halves box, but Connor had gotten you ice level seats. You were behind the visitors goal, meaning that he was able to mess with you during warm ups, bouncing against the glass to catch you off guard and toss you pucks to give to the excited children around you. 

It was all going smoothly until Matt scored. He, of course, had to be cocky about it, skating over to where you were and pointing as if to make sure you knew the goal was for you. It wasn’t the first time he dedicated a goal to you, but usually he wasn't so obvious about, a wink thrown up to where he knew you were in the box. It was almost like he couldn’t help himself now that you were so close. 

Knowing Matthew, that very well could be the case.

Connor noticed, of course, and skated over to Matt, giving him a shove on the shoulder. Your boyfriend didn’t engage, remembering that you had said you would break up with him on the spot if he ever fought your brother, but the two exchanged words, Matt holding up his hands like he was innocent.

As if. 

The rest of the game went smoother, with Connor seemingly ordering a hit on Matt and Leon shooting you exasperated looks every time the two got close. After he had left your apartment the night before, you had texted him and asked if he could make sure your brother didn't kill your boyfriend on the ice before you got the chance to talk him down. 

You weren’t too sure who you were supposed to be rooting for, but as the game went into overtime, you were glad both teams would be leaving with at least one point. And when Connor scored the game winner, you figured it was for the best to have him in a good mood. 

You had agreed to meet Connor outside the visiting team’s locker room, and so after the area emptied a bit, you made your way down there. It wasn't too long before Leon emerged, patting you on the back and mumbling a ‘good luck with him’ before heading off to meet his girlfriend who had come down for the game. You had rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help but be nervous. You wanted Connor to like Matt, you were pretty sure you were at least half in love with the guy, but family was important to you. In the end, you wouldn't let Connor or anyone else dictate who you were with, but his approval meant a lot. 

You had been so in your head about everything, thinking about just exactly how to phrase everything that Connor had caught you off guard when he came into the hallway. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, waving a hand in front of your eyes as you didn't even notice him approach. You jumped, having been startled but were quick to smile tightly at him. He called your name softly, urging you to tell him what was on your mind. 

“I have a boyfriend.” You blurted, cringing slightly at the suddenness of his words. That was not how you imagined this going, then again, you hadn’t originally planned on hiding your relationship from him for so long. Connor just sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with a near pained expression on his face.

“It’s not Tkachuk, is it?” He groaned, and your eyes just about bugged out of your head. You were certain you had been so careful in hiding your relationship, and it was one thing for him to suspect you were seeing someone but an entirely different thing for him to just flat out know.

“How did you know?” You felt stupid for asking, but you were so confused any embarrassment you felt was overshadowed. 

“Well for starters, he pointed right at you after you scored.” Connor listed off on his fingers and you blushed furiously. Matt might have been shameless, but you sure as hell weren’t. “And he's also standing right there.” 

You spun around at your brother’s words, no doubt finding Matt watching from afar, clearly nervous to approach. It was refreshing, honestly, seeing him so knocked off his game. It was good for his ego, and you just hoped Connor wasn't too angry.

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” You started, but your brother didn't let you finished. 

“I’m not gonna pretend like I understand, or that I like it, but I have a question.” You nodded eagerly, silently urging him to continue. “Does he make you happy?”

“Unbelievably so.” You told him honestly and without missing a beat. By now, Matt had joined you and had swung an arm around your shoulders, offering his free hand to Connor to shake. Your brother eyed him for a moment, before shaking his hand and you let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding. 

“If I hear you so much as make her cry once, Tkachuk, I will personally come to Calgary and give you want you deserve.” Connor threatened, and you rolled your eyes. Matt raised the arm that wasn’t wrapped over your shoulders in surrender, tugging you closer into his side as he spoke next. 

“Trust me man, I wouldn't even think of doing that.”